Homeward Bound
by sue de nymme
Summary: 2027. Wyatt Halliwell RIP Beloved Son, Beloved Brother. Saved the world, more than once. Please R&R.
1. Prologue The Day The Magic Died

**Prologue - The Day The Magic Died**

_Somewhere in the Amazon Basin, nestling between Manaus and Leticia, is a slab of shiny, black stone with a smiling photo on it. __Beneath the happy face are the words:_

_Wyatt Matthew Halliwell_

_RIP_

_2003-2026_

_Beloved Brother_

_Beloved Son_

_Saved the world – more than once._

_A month after this stone was erected, a man stood, gazing at it. He was young and not dressed for the jungle. His black clothes reflected his mood more than his surroundings. His face was like the man in the photo's, but sharper. _

_He read the words on the memorial stone, although he needn't have bothered as he knew them by heart. They had caused him much trouble. He had insisted that the last line be included. His sister had said that it was disrespectful;_

'_It's not right. It's like putting Wyatt Halliwell. Blessed - cursed too.'_

'_No. It's acknowledging what he was to the world. What he died for.'_

'_You're wrong. He didn't die to be a hero, he died for his family.'_

'_Well then I guess he died in vain because look at us now.'_

_Their mother said nothing. That was the biggest weight the family carried. The siblings' bickering, the father's constant working could all be handled. In the face of the unthinkable, they had reverted to type but Piper's silence was unknown. Piper's silence reminded everybody of what they had lost._

_The body standing in front of the memorial shivered into hundreds of little lights and Chris Halliwell orbed away. Moments later, a second man appeared in the same spot. This one didn't arrive by magic but by foot. He had bare feet, raw and blistered much like the rest of his body. He stopped, surprised by the __memorial and squinted to read it. He could not make out the words but something about this sudden burst of humanity, of civilisation amidst the wilderness moved him and he sat and cradled himself in front of the grave._


	2. Something Wicca This Way Comes

**Something Wicca This Way Comes**

_The plane was a battered, old thing with a rubber-band engine. It was encrusted with dust, mud and other, more dubious stains. Had it been a car, people would have written messages on it by now. Nevertheless, this rusting, old tin can with its unreliable mechanics was salvation.

* * *

_

Milton Diggory rested his head against the warm plastic of the train window. This was his third train and final leg of the journey. Life seemed to begin in this train. He could find an empty carriage and stare out the windows where he would see houses and people instead of the endless darkness of the subway. He closed his eyes and thought about his wife.

The carriage door slammed. Two raggedy tramps ambled on. They sat down at the end of the train. One slurped on a can of beer whilst the other fidgeted around, standing up and then sitting down again repeatedly.

'There's no place for us anymore,' the man sighed, sitting down again. He had dull, grey eyes hidden behind rough, sagging skin. Matted, prematurely grey hair fell in front of strong, even features.

'I want to know. I want to go back.' His companion replied, earnestly. He was no better turned out. His thick lips covered a mouth full of gold, crooked and missing teeth. He slurred as he spoke but a twinkle in his beady, black eyes suggested some conviction amongst the drunkenness.

'We've got no call.' It sounded like a conversation that had been had a thousand times.

'You're just chicken.'

The greying, anxious tramp was known amongst his friends as TJ. Outside of this circle, he just wasn't known. His friend, with beady eyes and a teasing grin, was Sebastian Sanchez. Seeming to have no more in common than the time since their last wash and early greys, they made an odd pair but anyone who has ever caught the Newark Light Rail would know they were inseparable.

The train rumbled away from the station. Milton pondered his wife's underwear.

'Surprise.' A third voice, someone Milton hadn't noticed before, stood over the two men. In contrast to them, he was tall and toned with smooth, pampered skin and neatly gelled hair. He wore a black, tailored suit that fit snugly to his body. His voice was soft but masculine with a slightly mocking ring to it.

The two tramps leapt to their feet, eyeing their companion defensively.

'Comrades.' The suited man smiled. This warmth was not reflected in the other men, who stood with clenched fists. TJ glanced across at Milton, 'he hasn't frozen.' Milton looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring. He wondered what he meant.

Sebastian shrugged, 'What can I do?' TJ looked again at Milton, more intently this time. He kept his gaze for so long that Milton felt permitted to look up, alarmed by the break in etiquette. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively but there was no time for questions.

The suited man had thrown something at Sebastian. It smashed through a window, leaving air gushing in and knocking the tramps sideways. Again, the man lifted his arm to throw something.

'Hey!' Milton shouted instinctively.

The man turned, smiling wryly, 'yes?'

'Don't do that.' Milton's confidence surprised even him. With a look of disgust, the man released his hand, hurling the object straight towards Milton.

In the seconds that he had left, Milton looked at the scene in front of him; two tramps, looking on aghast and some city type turning away from him, not even bothering to watch him die. And this thing, flying across the carriage towards him. He saw nothing and something. No object, nothing solid, just a flickering ball of light – of energy.

Two feet away from destruction and the ball stopped. Without hitting Milton, it seemed to bounce against the air around him and shoot out another window.

Milton eyed his attacker who looked back, his smile subsiding. A rational voice in Milton's head told him to be afraid, to press the panic button. It told him to be irrational. But Milton could not find it in himself. He punched through a glass case on the wall and pulled out an axe – '_in case of emergencies_.'

'The windows are already broken.' The suited man said. Milton stepped forward. He raised the axe above his head and swung it at the man. He ducked. Milton brought it back up and jabbed it forwards, pushing the man towards the carriage wall. Milton knew that, for all intents and purposes, 'axe-murderer' is synonymous with crazed but this man, with his strange balls of light and preened skin, did not seem to count. Somehow, Milton just did not believe it would be murder. He did not believe it would be real.

The wind rushing through the broken windows flapped Milton's hair across his face and made his eyes water but he never once lost his balance. The axe felt comfortable in his hands. He swung it to and fro, edging the man towards the automatic doors. He felt the train slowing. Just a few more seconds. The train stopped. He swung the axe one last time. 'Please mind the gap,' the tanoy voice came over the carriage's speakers. The man fell backwards onto the platform, disappearing from sight. Milton stood back into the carriage and watched as the station vanished.

TJ and Sebastian stared at Milton blankly, holding their jaws tightly closed. His mouth twitched, nearly a smile. He knew he ought to speak but he wasn't sure what to say – was he meant to ask questions or offer an explanation? Instead, he sat down, leaving them at the other end of the carriage.

As Milton stepped off the train, Sebastian Sanchez took another sip of his beer. He was singing _Pink Floyd _to himself. His friend sat, motionless.

'It's time to sober up,' TJ said. Sebastian looked at him sadly, a little confused. They were both alcoholics and miscreants – they knew that – but it was made bearable by their lack of aspiration. No good intentions, no disappointment. TJ was now breaking some unspoken code.

'D'you hear me? It's time to sober up.' He yanked the beer away from Sebastian who blinked uncomprehendingly. 'Wyatt's back.'

With an unexpected stab of disappointment, Sebastian murmured, 'watchoo talkin' about? Wyatt ain't back. He's dead.'

With the air of someone divulging a secret, TJ pointed to the man who had just got off the train. 'Look,' he said. '_Look._'


	3. Awakened

**Awakened**

_The plane rumbled through the air, climbing above the trees spread out below. From such a height, you couldn't know how they towered above the few humans beneath them, mocking their inability to conquer. _

_Milton looked through the murky window and stuck out his lower lip. He watched the plane's shadow chasing over the different shades of green. Then, there it was. Straight ahead of them; a perfect circle of about half a mile's radius where no trees grew. Nothing grew there. The ground was cracked and dry and were there a wind it would blow dust right across the barren wilderness._

_Barely distinguishable in the golden ground was a symbol. You wouldn't notice it if you didn't know to look but sure enough if you were told; three interlinking ellipses framed in a circle. Milton had lain in the centre of that circle for fifteen days._

_He was conscious for hours before he moved. The first thing he noticed was the pain; a stiff aching throughout his body. It took a while longer to realise it was his skin burning. Eventually, he rolled over as if to make for some shade but there wasn't any. Instead, his body was seared by the hot ground. He jerked back to his previous position, lying on his back, which was used to the heat. Finding the same position was impossible; he shifted around for minutes, maybe hours, but there was always an ankle, the side of an arm, the top of a shoulder burning where it touched the earth. In his frustration, he lifted his arm up across his face and pushed his eyelids open, then jammed them shut again as the sun blinded him. He pushed them open again, squinting. Then closed them. Open, closed, open, closed, until they had adjusted. They were dry and itchy – blinking them was irresistible. There was no moisture left in him. The sun no longer beat down on him, there was no beating. It was continuous. _

_After a day, he realised that he could not move; bending an arm or a leg was the most he could manage. So, each night, once it got cool enough, he would roll onto his other side, allowing both to be equally protected, equally exposed. And each night he prayed that somebody would come and rescue him. He prayed for a familiar face, at first. After a while, any face would do._

_After a week, Milton realised that no-one was coming. And, that with each day that passed, he grew weaker. That night he got up. He lifted his head first and, as stabbing pains shot through it and an overwhelming sense of gravity pulled it downwards, he pulled his back up off the ground as well. It took him all night and he fell, more than once. He fell in every direction a man can but at sunrise, there he was, with his head drooping into his chest, his arms spread out in front of him and his legs and back bent like a child that is unsure how to walk. He took his first step._

_It was then that he realised he did not know where to go. At first he had just been struck with the urge to move; to move his arms, his legs, his head and his toes. Then, to move on from where he was: to leave this hostile ground with the sun that kept him prisoner. It was not until he was stood, set to go, that he realised he did not know where. It was on his seventh day of waking that Milton realised he did not know who he was. All he craved was the familiar but to him nothing was.

* * *

_

Milton and his wife lived the perfect suburban life, _The Revised Edition._ Instead of a 1950s dress, his wife wore an almost see-through, white shirt that clung to the black bra beneath and slid down her chest as she walked. She accompanied this with a tight black skirt that silhouetted her figure perfectly. Milton, being a modern man, did not expect dinner prepared and on the table when he got home. His wife did, nonetheless, have a bowl of _Frosties_ ready every afternoon at six o'clock. And, had she not dug it up, they would also have had that extremely sought after white picket fence.

Every Sunday afternoon, Milton and Jennifer went bowling with their four best friends, two equally happily married couples. Despite having no particular technique, Milton always bowled a strike. And, despite often being on the opposing team, everybody was always thrilled. It was during one such afternoon that he raised the issue of the accident. Everybody went silent, averting their eyes.

'Honey, I don't understand,' smiled Jennifer. 'You think you can remember things?'

Milton sighed. 'No. Well, yes.' He rubbed his forehead, self-consciously. 'Not people, or events. Habits. I think I can remember habits.'

'Like what?' Harvey was the _Budweiser_ man, the guy that Milton could always confide in. He was also his doctor, which made him indispensable after the accident.

'I got in a fight, yesterday, on the train.' All five of those surrounding him gasped – amongst such happy people, fights were rare. Milton swallowed and continued, '_anyway_, I had to use the emergency axe to defend myself.'

As he re-told the story of the tramps and the man, he realised how absurd it sounded. He continually back-tracked -changing a detail here, a detail there, leaving out the bit about the balls of energy - in order to try and convince his friends he was justified in wielding an axe against a stranger on the Newark Light Rail.

'Oh god, I don't know. The thing is… Well, what really struck me was how familiar it felt, how I knew what to do, how to hold it – the axe, I mean' Milton stopped himself and looked down, embarrassed. He was always the troubled one.

Ever since the accident in the jungle, when he had lost his memory, he was the one with problems – he couldn't sleep, he didn't feel right, he didn't know who he was, he wanted a different job, a different house, he wanted to do something different with his Sunday afternoons. He remembered that conversation in particular:

'So, guys, I was thinking we might go sailing next Sunday. A guy at work's got a boat we could use.'

'Sunday? But it's bowling on Sundays.'

'Yeah, I know, but I thought we could try something different, just this once.'

'But why? Don't you like bowling? You always win.'

'Yeah, I know, but wouldn't you like to do something else for once? Something where maybe I didn't win?'

'Don't you like winning?' They never went sailing.

So, amongst his friends, Milton couldn't help feeling like the problem child. Luckily, they were always willing to see him through it.

'It's highly possible.' Harvey nodded. 'Maybe you fenced as a kid. You may have forgotten the lessons, the teachers and so on but you'd still have the ability to fence – or axe wield.' At this, he grinned and turned back to the scoreboard. 'Well, it looks like I'm coming up behind you buddy, better get your act together, because your about to get what they call an ass whipping.'

Of course, Milton won. Milton always won. What troubled him for the rest of the afternoon was; if, in spite of his amnesia, he was able to retain the ability to fence why had he never remembered how to programme computers or put up shelves or bowl or do any of those things that he had been doing for years before the accident and had had to re-learn? He did not ask. He felt a creeping sense of unease when faced with the question and so he tried to forget about it and enjoy the 'ass whipping' he was not receiving.


	4. Give Me A Sign

**Give Me A Sign**

'I wish you'd told me about your fight.' Jennifer and Milton were sat eating dinner.

'It was nothing.'

'Well, it doesn't sound like nothing.' Milton struggled to discern what the emotion behind the nonchalant tone was. 'It was enough for you to tell Harvey.'

'At the same time as you.' He went into defence mode.

'I'm just saying,' she stopped eating, 'I'm your wife. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Tell each other things?'

'Actually, I thought the purpose of marriage was to make babies. Looks like either way we're failing.' Milton didn't really want children – he couldn't imagine himself as a father- but more than the thought of having children, he disliked his wife's complete hatred of the idea. It seemed to him, given their situation – their finances, their age - the word 'children' should at least have a question mark over it.

'Next time you assault a stranger,' his wife quipped, 'please let me know.' She got up and left the table.

* * *

_As Milton came to the edge of the circle and neared the jungle, he hurried his pace and leant forward so as to almost feel the relief of the shade. But, as he stumbled under its canopy, he could only sob in disappointment – a hoarse, wretched sob that caused more pain than it exhausted. The jungle air was damp and warm. His eyes, unable to adjust to the newfound darkness, still saw white lights in front of him. The difference in light made him dizzy and he slumped to the ground. As his knees hit the earth a piece of glass cut into them. Trying to pull himself from the ensuing daze, he felt around for the glass on the floor and found a small broken bottle, no bigger than his hand. On the front of the bottle was a symbol – three ellipses in a circle.

* * *

_

Jennifer normally started the arguments but she always ended them; cooking some fabulous meal or treating him to a night in New York. Jennifer said sorry with style. This time she had left two tickets on his bed to see Clark Johnson, a country singer that they had played at their wedding. Milton picked the tickets up and put them on the bedside table. Harvey had once told Milton that if he were married to Jennifer he would pick arguments all the time because the making up sounded so good. Harvey's wife normally cried and always made him apologise. Milton chewed his lip and dropped back onto the bed. He knew that wanting a messier marriage was ridiculous. He picked up a piece of paper and pen on the side of the bed and wrote, 'I'm sorry too.' He left it on her pillow, got in the car and drove.

It was two o'clock in the morning by the time he arrived at Harvey's but he knocked on the door anyway.

'Time for a bud?' He asked. Harvey grinned.

'Always.' Sometimes Milton toyed with the idea of finding Harvey for a beer at the most awkward times – Valentine's Day, when he was working, when he was on holiday – just to see what it would take for him to say no. He'd never seen this out as a slightly nervous voice in the back of his head told him Harvey never would say no.

Ten minutes later, the two men sat in the cool of Harvey's back yard, cracking open their second bottles.

'I heard this song playing in this café today.' Milton stopped he didn't know what he was trying to say. 'It was an old one. Y'know, _The Great Gig in the Sky.'_

'Yeah?' Harvey smiled, looking for a punch line.

'It was… it was… beautiful.' Milton mumbled the last word, knowing it was a cop out.

'Milton,' Harvey's voice took the tone of a parent. 'You didn't get all wound up and drive out here in the middle of the night just because of some song. What's going on?'

Milton looked at his friend unsurely, looking for something in his face, some recognition. 'The songs me and Jenny listen to –_our_ songs – they're not like this. I know every word but I don't feel anything. This song, it made me feel.' Milton wanted to close his eyes, or his ears, to block out the embarrassing sound of his words.

Harvey's voice relaxed, 'is this what this is about? You and Jen having problems?'

Milton didn't answer. He didn't know the answer. He just stared out into the blackness.

'If this is love,' he eventually said, 'it's overrated.'


	5. A Wrong Day's Journey Into Right

**A Wrong Day's Journey Into Right**

The night after the incident on the train, Milton had a nightmare, which he had had before. A blonde woman was running away from him, across a desert plane. She was in office wear – white shirt, black skirt. It was Jenny. Milton tried to catch up with her but he was always blocked by trees - hundreds of trees groping at him, tripping him up. Why were there no trees around her? And as he would just begin to reach her, he would reach out for her shoulder and she would turn around and he didn't know her. It wasn't Jenny, it was somebody else or maybe it was Jenny and he simply didn't recognise her. Either way, he was struck with the fear that he had lost her.

Milton woke up with a start. The reason for this is, of course, that one always wakes up from nightmares with a start. Or, at least, if one wakes up during a nightmare, it is with a start. He closed his eyes tightly and told himself out loud that it was only a dream. Nonetheless, he still struggled to shake the feeling of unease as he walked into the bathroom. The problem for Milton was that so many of his nightmares were not dreams but memories replaying themselves when he couldn't distract himself – the desert, the jungle, the symbols.

He rifled through the bathroom cabinet, looking for some aspirin. Finding none there, he went to his wife's bed side table. He tried to open the drawer but it was locked. He knew where the key was. Milton could not understand why Jennifer insisted on locking this draw. When the issue was raised, she always dismissed it -sometimes with jokes, sometimes with annoyance. 'A marriage can only survive if either partner is allowed their secrets.' He only wanted an aspirin.

He turned the little key in the drawer lock and opened it. Some make-up, some chocolate, a small, padlocked book that looked like a diary, her pill (Milton prickled) and a spare tampon. Milton pushed some of the make-up aside to check that no painkillers could be lurking underneath. As he did so, his watch caught on the lining of the drawer. He tried to pull it away but pulled up the attached layer of board instead. Then Milton started for the second time that day. Underneath the top layer of the drawer was another compartment, filled with small glass bottles. They were identical to those Milton had seen on the jungle floor. These, however, were not broken. Each was filled with a different coloured liquid. There wasn't a single space in the drawer. A thin layer of dust suggested they had gone untouched for a long time. Milton picked up one of the bottles and looked at it; clear, still liquid. He opened it and stuck his nose over the top - scentless. He picked up two more and repeated his experiment. One was gloopier and smelt slightly of herbs. The other had an acidic smell that made him splutter when he sniffed it. A car door slammed outside. Flustered, Milton put the bottles back and closed the drawer, forgetting about the aspirin.

* * *

Melinda Halliwell suffered from car sickness. Even so, she had travelled the entire breadth of the country, from Brown to her home in San Francisco, by coach. This decision makes even less sense when you know that Melinda Halliwell had a family full of whitelighters. In fact, without the knowledge that she could be back home within the blink of an orb, her mother would never have let her move so far away. In the last few years though, this distance had become a relief, allowing her to avoid the bubble of grief that her once happy family home had become.

She had drifted in and out of the waking world for several hours, each time opening her eyes to find she was on a different highway, with different scenery, mountains, desert land, lush, farm land. But during her sleep she saw only one place – home. The golden gate bridge, the street that she grew up in, the funny, red house where her parents lived, the club her brother ran, her mum and dad.

And as the coach headed north up route 101, a different sort of nausea rose in Melinda's stomach - a sickness that wasn't caused by the motion of the bus. It was caused by the house and the club and the bridge. Home wasn't safe anymore. Grief had infiltrated the Halliwell manor in a way that demons never could. Eventually though the dread of going home was eclipsed by the anxiety of being away and bags had been packed, notice had been given and a bus ticket had been purchased.

_

* * *

_

_After Milton had walked through the jungle for two weeks, he came across a river. He might have been expected to dive in it, to laugh or to cry but he just stood there, shocked. For two weeks, despair had reigned Milton's heart and now he was unsure how to cope with this hope. Unable to collapse into the relieving waters, he instead trudged alongside, knowing that eventually rivers lead to people. But Milton did not find people down stream. At least, not in the way that he had expected._

_What Milton found was a black memorial stone. His eyes were too weak to read the words or make out the picture. Milton didn't know who this was but he didn't need to. A stone like this reminded him of people, of caring, of loss. A stone like this reminded him of who he was. He did not know his name or his past but seeing this grave stone reminded him that he was alive. _

_For a while, Milton sat and hugged himself with relief. Then he stood up and bathed in the river._

* * *

Piper Halliwell had cooked dinner for her family. Everybody was supposed to be there but they weren't. Instead, Piper was left with her two sisters sat loyally at her dinner table.

Phoebe munched on her food, over enthusiastically, 'mmm. This is really delicious, Piper.'

'Yeah,' Paige added, 'thanks, Piper. This is great.' Piper smiled glumly. They continued their meal in silence.

'So, where's Leo?' Paige asked.

'He's working.' The conversation was polite, as you'd expect between acquaintances, not sisters, especially not these sisters. Phoebe looked at her sister sympathetically. Piper scowled and looked away. She hated the way her sisters looked at her, as though any moment she might break down. Truth be told, if anything were likely to make her break down, it would be these looks. Walking round the local neighbourhood, Piper felt as though she had a long, black, mourning gown on, with its tails trailing behind her. In reality, she rarely mentioned Wyatt and asked for no comfort or sympathy.

Paige chewed her food slowly. She knew that Piper's cooking was excellent but eating with her sisters made everything taste like grit. At meal times like these, she felt like an only child again. When Wyatt first died, they had been able to comfort Piper, share in her grief. They were still a family, united in their loss. Now, a year later, Phoebe and Paige were ready to move on – the pain had eased and they could think of Wyatt with pleasure. Piper, however, was facing the slow and painful grind of day to day life without her son. For perhaps the first time in their lives, sisterly love was not enough.

* * *

Since, the incident on the train, Milton had noticed the same tramps a minimum of five times. Considering that he had travelled the same route everyday for a year and never seen either of them, this seemed odd. _'You've probably just never noticed them – that doesn't mean they weren't there,'_ he told himself. But on Monday, a week later, he became quite sure they were following him. When the train pulled up next to the platform, he got on as usual. And, sure enough, they got on as well, two carriages along. This time though Milton waited for thirty seconds and then got off. He coughed as he did so in order that they wouldn't miss it. They didn't. Alarm flickered across their faces and then they grinned, waved and rolled away with the train. For a moment, Milton stood on the platform perplexed but then turned, shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled away. He knew he'd been being silly.

Turning the corner out of the station, however, Milton was shocked to notice the same two men scurrying into a shop across the road.

'Hey!' He shouted and ran towards them. They hurried away. As they did so, a small, glass bottle fell out of Milo's coat pocket. It smashed and fumed. TJ glanced at it briefly but ran on. Milton, his head racing nearly as fast as his feet tried to catch up with them but as they turned another corner, he lost them. Cursing, he bent over to catch his breath. He didn't know who they were and he couldn't guess but one thing became increasingly obvious to Milton, Jenny would know.

* * *

All three Halliwell sisters looked up as they heard someone coming in the front door. With so many whitelighters about, it was an unusual sound in the manor. They looked towards the door. It opened and a girl with dark blonde hair, little features and a face that couldn't quite decide if it was round or square walked in.

'Hi!' Phoebe jumped up and embraced the girl in a hug, the first to welcome back her niece. Melinda, caught by surprise at the lump rising in her throat, grinned and bit furiously at her tongue.

'Hey.' Paige stood up, following suit. 'Welcome back.' Melinda couldn't manage to say anything so she hugged her aunts happily.

'Hi honey.' Piper's voice was soft and motherly, without the energy of the two aunts. She walked over to her daughter slowly and wrapped her arms around her. Melinda's eyes filled up, she fought the tears back, grinning even more idiotically to try and stop the lump exploding.

'Hi,' she squeaked. Piper closed her eyes, relieved to have at least one child back under her roof. For a moment, she clung onto her daughter but then quickly pulled away so that Melinda would never realise it was clinging not hugging. 'I've missed you,' she whispered.'

'Me too,' Melinda's voice cracked. Phoebe and Paige beamed.


	6. The Torn Identity

**The Torn Identity**

TJ stared down at his own name in the Yellow Pages, _Tyler James Morgan _and an eleven digit number he hadn't thought about in a long time. He tapped the phone, picked it up and put it down again. Somebody banged on the door of the phone booth.

'Hey, pal. This isn't a waiting room, y'know.' TJ gritted his teeth. _Personal gain_, he told himself. The man outside hit the window again. TJ looked at the number, committing it to memory and left the booth. He wondered how in a world of video cells and instant messaging there was still a queue for a phone booth.

* * *

Milton had never arrived at work that day. On the train journey home he had looked furiously around each platform, hoping or dreading that he would see them. Failing to find his mysterious stalkers, he had spent the rest of the day sat on the same spot of the sofa. Every time he heard a car engine or footsteps outside, he would leap up, preparing himself. Other than these occasional outbursts, he never moved.

A key turned in the lock and Milton began to sweat. Jennifer paused briefly in surprise to see him then walked elegantly across the room and placed a velvety kiss on his cheek, 'what are you doing home?'

'Waiting for you?

'Why?' Her tone turned to artful concern. 'Is there something wrong?'

'Do you know who the man on the train was?' Milton's eyes bored unkindly into his wife's.

'No. What are you talking about?' She asked unsurely. 'That fight you had?'

'You know what I'm talking about. Who was he? Did you send him?'

'What is the matter with you?' People learn to lie with their eyes. They learn to lie with their faces. Liars know how important faces are. It's the arms that tell the truth and the arms that are never read. But Jenny's arms were not lying. She was bewildered. Although, perhaps not as bewildered as would make her innocent.

* * *

Chris sat at a desk in his office, typing numbers into a spreadsheet. He filled in the last cell and rubbed his forehead. Clicking 'save', he opened another spreadsheet. It was the restaurant's accounts, his mother's accounts. Over the last year the family had developed a routine. Each month, Leo would do Piper's accounts, with all the love in his heart but all the expertise of a child. Then, after doing his own, Chris would secretly go over Piper's accounts, adjusting them and checking them. A few months after that, Melinda would ring. 'I've checked your accounts on-line, mum and they're atrocious. I've sent you another copy. Do it this way in future. It's much more efficient.'Piper would ask Melinda when she was coming home.

Chris stood up to make a coffee. Next to the cafeteria was a photo of four men dressed as Bond villains. He passed the picture hundreds of times each day, without even a second glance, and then sometimes, completely arbitrarily, it would catch him and he'd barely be able to stand for the weight of it. His lip jutted out and he swallowed the rock in his throat. He read the inscription, _Tyler made us do it._

The phone ring pulled Chris from his melancholy. 'Hello?'

'Hi. It's Phoebe. Your sister's home.'

* * *

Milton had been searching train stations on the Newark line all week. Finally, at eleven o'clock he saw them. The paler one was sat on the floor, leant against some railings, looking, if possible, more tired and battered than previously. The other was sat on the opposite platform, dangling his legs over the track as if to jump onto it.

'Hey! Sebastian! Use the bridge.' This from the seated tramp.

'What?' His eyes were teasing and he pushed himself further towards the tracks, threatening to jump.

'Get up, you stupid idiot.' The tramp was too weary to get up but he shifted nervously where he sat.

'It's quicker this way.' Sebastian remarked defiantly, 'Eh, TJ? Quicker just to walk across the tracks.'

'There's a train coming. Use the bridge.' TJ pushed himself onto his feet. Sebastian waved him away dismissively and headed towards the bridge. Milton gritted his teeth and took the opportunity to reveal himself. He convinced himself that a pair with no cares but for each other could not be evil.

'I just want to talk to you.' He said anxiously. Milo held his gaze, sizing him up and then turned away.

'I've got nothing to say.' He mumbled and headed down the platform. Milton felt himself panicking. In the jungle there had always been something that he could do, he could always walk. Now, he was clueless. He didn't know what to do, how to manipulate people. Jenny was the social butterfly.

'Hey!' He called out to TJ's back. 'Do you know me? Hey! I asked you a question. Please.' Filled with an irrepressible rage, Milton ran towards this raggedy tramp walking away from him on a train platform. 'Do you know me?' His voice reverberated around the platform so that the pigeons scattered and the commuters stared. 'Do you know me?!' He shouted. The beer bottle TJ had left on the floor exploded. TJ turned around shocked and looked from the shattered glass to Milton.

'Who am I?' Milton whispered helplessly.

'How can I know you? You don't even know yourself.'

'He thinks you're Wyatt.' Sebastian came up behind the pair, breaking the silence. 'But you ain't Wyatt. Wyatt's a big man. He's not like you. You're just another suit. You look like him, alright. With your big, blue eyes and your walk. You even talk like him but you're not him. You're too little.'

Milton had expected everything to fall into place. He'd expected a flash of clarity but there was none, just a sinking feeling and a slight embarrassment. Then annoyance. He dropped his head and cursed himself.

'What do you know? You're just a couple of tramps.' Sebastian swelled his chest and his eyes flashed.

'We're not tramps. We're misplaced soldiers.'

'You look like a couple of clowns to me.'

'Go away then.'


	7. A Call To Arms

**A Call To Arms**

Nestling on the northern most point of Lake Garda in Trentino, Italy, is a small town called Riva. Here, each day, sits a silver cropped man watching the lake. He sits as upright as the walking cane lying next to him, a cane which he does not need but carries to complete the feel of easy living. He watches the windsurfers, soaring across the water, hopping immaculately over the waves and he watches the tourists rumble past on the lake's ferries. He watches them admiring the surfers and catches their anxiety when they come too close to the bow of the boat. He watches as the surfer tumbles unexpectedly into the wind and struggles to pull his sail out of the water. He watches as the captain blows his horn helplessly. As the passengers begin to gasp and call out. He watches as the surfer is dragged under the oncoming ferry. He watches the water turn red and stands and stretches, deciding to head back towards his hotel in the neighbouring town.

As he wanders home, along the sun soaked coastal path, the man passes hundreds of holiday makers, gaily amusing themselves in the water. On the other side of him he passes dozens of memorial stones – it's a death trap that road. A young girl stands, hanging onto some railings, preparing to jump into the lake. Her brothers, already in, call her to follow them. She looks nervously at the drop. Her parents smile, barely paying attention. 'Go on,' her father tells her. She bites her lip and jumps. As she does so her foot catches the railings. With a jot, she is flipped head first into the rock wall beneath. The man smiles and walks on by.

* * *

'Lesson 1. Demons can be anyone. They can look like us, walk like us, talk like us.' TJ was instructing Milton.

'Right, anyone.' Milton looked at a beefy looking man with snake tattoos all over his arms and a big gash across his head.

TJ put his hand round Milton's head and pushed it sideways to look at a plump woman in a frumpy dress carrying four bags of shopping in one hand and a small child in the other. 'Anyone,' he repeated.

'Is she?' Milton asked, filled with wonder and dread.

'I don't know.'

'How can you tell? When they attack?'

TJ smiled wistfully, 'most demons aren't coming for you. They're coming for the shopkeeper, the barman or the professor. You need to find another way of knowing.'

Milton blinked, thinking furiously.

'Premonitions, warnings or just waiting and seeing,' explained TJ in response to Milton's puzzled expression.

'Right. Wait and see.' Milton muttered to himself.

* * *

In Riva, the greying tourist sat on his usual bench, once again watching the nervous wind-surfers. A second man appeared. He was the same man who, some days previously, had been banging impatiently on the door of a telephone box.

'I don't ask for politeness, brains or demonic skill when I hire you but please learn never to appear like that again. Otherwise, I will have to kill you.' The silver haired man said.

'Barbas,' the second man started, 'the witch has rowed with Guinevere. He left last night and has not returned.'

Barbas sighed. 'I thought my part in this was over.' He paused then, resigned to the inevitable asked, 'do we think he is with the tramps?'

'We cannot be sure.'

'Well,' Barbas smiled grimly, 'it looks as though my retirement will have to be delayed.'

* * *

'Has it ever occurred to you that cars are unnecessarily loud? It's the year 2027, surely they could have made silent cars by now?' Milton wandered how this was relevant to demon slaying. As the week had progressed, TJ 's anxiousness over training Milton had been replaced by a shy eagerness. He had started to elaborate on those topics that were more philosophical.

'There's no such thing as silence.' Milton hoped to stump TJ.

'Demons are silent. And humans may not be able to make silent engines but they could make inaudible ones. Why don't we? Noise is safe. It is reassuring. Not only boy racers like to hear the revving of the engine – we all do. But demons are silent. Their shoes make sound and their clothes do but they can rub their hands together and make no noise at all. They materialise and disappear, they can hide in walls or water and you will never know they are there. Next lesson; you cannot hear evil, or see it. You can't smell it. You must sense it.' TJ smiled. Milton could see the pleasure he was taking from their lessons and wondered if he wasn't more teacher than witch.

'That's all very well.' He said. 'But I don't know how to read a spell, how to – I don't know – _do_ anything. I can't sense evil.'

TJ's face dropped. It was a subject he had been avoiding but Milton's practical lessons had bee a disaster. They had tried to coax it out of him and frighten it out of him. But when Sebastian blasted him, Milton managed nothing more than a nose bleed.

'He needs to go home' Sebastian interjected.

'No.' Milton couldn't contemplate going to San Francisco. He was shocked when Milo had said that was where he was born. Milton considered himself of the East Coast, maybe New York, but not sunny San Francisco. What was a nerdy computer programmer meant to do in San Francisco?


	8. Out Of Sight

**Out of Sight**

'Do you know who the man on the train was?' Barbas echoed Milton as he questioned Jennifer.

'I have no idea. Some demon, after the tramps I suppose.' Jennifer looked annoyed. It was rare for a seductress demon. They normally continued through hell and high waters – quite literally – with a certain cool and grace.

'Will the tramps take him back to the charmed ones?' She asked. Nobody had known about the tramps' existence until Milton reported the incident on the train. It was a sore spot for all, a crack in their masterpiece.

'Why would a demon be after the tramps when nobody knew they were alive?' bellowed Barbas. He stopped, breathed and rubbed his forehead. 'It's difficult to know if they will return him. Morgan's very cautious. He won't want to cause any strife. He may wait.'

'And the other? Sanchez?'

'Sanchez will follow Morgan anywhere.'

* * *

'I don't want to go to San Francisco.' Milton said stubbornly.

'Why?' Sebastian's righteousness echoed angrily in his voice.

'Because… Because so far, all I've seen are fireworks. I've had a hard year. I got in a fight and then I fell in with a couple of tramps. It was time for me to go off the rails. My wife can forgive that. Maybe even understand it. But San Francisco, a new family. How does anyone explain that?' Milton was unsure if it was he or his wife who would need to explain.

Sebastian looked Milton in the eye and spoke for the longest period of time since Milton had met him, 'if this is all a mad episode, a couple tramps and an amnesiac, then there won't be a family waiting out there. You can come home. All we did was take a road trip. If there is a family there, then… Then your wife is someone you need to be afraid of.'

TJ was sat on a bench, he let his head rest on his chest as he thought. 'There is always magic school,' he said.

* * *

Leo Wyatt sat in a meeting.

'I'm telling you, I didn't do it, sir. This is so unfair. I always get blamed for everything.'

'We're not blaming you for anything, Blane, we simply want to know what happened.' Leo had meetings like this several times a week. The difference was he usually didn't have elders sat either side of him.

'I'm telling you I don't know anything. And it don't make no difference how many magical heavies you bring down here, I still ain't saying I did it.' The kid was a trouble-maker, one of the usual suspects.

Leo frowned, 'maybe you can start by telling us what you were doing there.'

'I already told you, man! I don't know.' Any other day, Leo would be sure the student was lying but in the last week, five highly responsible, extremely dependable students had also been found in the forbidden areas of the school, claiming they had no idea what they were doing there.'

Leo sighed, 'thank you, Blane. That will be all.'

As the office door slammed shut, Leo looked around at his companions. The younger elder, Kevin, took to doodling on a notepad, scribbling strands of thought and then illustrating them.

'Demons?' the other, more traditional elder pondered.

'No.' Leo furrowed his brow. 'We have covered the whole school in crystals, cast hundreds of spells, and checked for any sign of attack or infiltration. Nothing's been stolen. Nothing's been damaged. This is a student. Or a teacher.'

'How can it be? Everybody's been accounted for.'

'We can rule out demons. We can rule out student trickery and we can rule out misled teachers. This leaves us with one remaining option.' It was the first time Kevin had spoken since the beginning of the meeting. He held up his doodle, now a page covered in scribbled words and cartoons. In large, spidery handwriting across the middle, he had written the word, '_innocent_.'

* * *

'How could an innocent possibly get into magic school? Or not be found? Or erase the students' memories?' Paige asked. Leo was continuing the conversation with her in the manor.

Leo narrowed his eyes, deliberating on the word, 'an innocent does not necessarily have to be none magical, Paige. It's just somebody without the power to protect themselves from evil.'

'Well, if they're so very innocent then why don't they show themselves?' Paige raised an eyebrow.

'Any number of reasons. They could be a magical outcast – an ogre or a giant. They might believe that by remaining hidden, they relieve the threat to themselves. Whatever it is, we can try and lift the spells put on the students and get their memories back. Now, we've ruled out evil magic, there are new spells we can try.'

'Honestly, you'd think after the triad, someone would've invented magical CCTV. How come Harry Potter gets the Marauder's Map and we get nothing?'

* * *

TJ closed a door quietly behind him. He, Milton and Sebastian stood alone in an empty wing of the school.

'I've found a cloaking spell. Hopefully this way we won't run into anymore curious students.' He passed a sheet of paper to Sebastian with the words written on it. Sebastian squinted at it. He and TJ began to read the words. Then TJ stopped abruptly and turned to Milton, 'do you want to help?'

'Sure.' Milton looked up obligingly. TJ took his hand.

'Just hold our hands and focus on wanting not to be found.'

'Okay.' TJ and Sebastian began to speak the words again. Milton stared at the door uncomfortably. He didn't expect anything to happen.

'Cloak our spells, lights and sound,

Whilst we remain, this room must not be found.'

TJ lit the paper they were reading from and as he did the light caught Milton's attention. It seemed to consume all his thoughts and suddenly energy surged through him, coming like heat from TJ's hand and growing stronger. Shocked, he pulled away. TJ looked at him alarmed then smiled.

'So you are a witch after all,' Sebastian murmured.

* * *

Paige tipped a potion into Blaine's eyes, 'sorry about this. It really is necessary.'

Blaine struggled away from the potion, 'yeah, I'm sure, I'm sure. Well, I-' Blaine blinked. As the potion went into his eyes it turned a thick green. 'I- I-' It trickled down his cheeks. 'I remember.' He breathed.

'What do you remember.'

'I was on the third floor and I heard someone calling out - a guy. And some bangs. I thought it was just students so I went to check it out. I snuck towards a door at the end of the corridor and...' Blaine paused, thinking deeply. 'There were three guys in there. One was blasting the other. Another was sat watching. They were... _really_ powerful. Not students.' He looked up at Paige, hesitantly. 'The one being attacked. I think... He looked just like... He didn't have any powers. His face was bleeding and he looked... helpless.'

* * *

Leo looked at Paige concerned. He didn't often feel so powerless in his own school. 'They were all witches?'

'No, two witches and a mortal. They were torturing him, Leo.'

* * *

'C'mon, Sanchez. Again.' Milton looked stubbornly towards Sebastian and gritted his teeth. Sebastian flicked his hands towards Milton's shoulder. Milton flew sideways, his shoulder now bleeding. As he picked himself up, TJ opened his mouth to speak. Sebastian nodded at him.

'No,' Milton gasped for breath. 'We're not stopping until I've mastered it.'

'You're not going to master it, not like this.' Sebastian said, turning away.

Paige and Leo stood at the end of the third floor corridor.

'What once was cloaked, now be revealed.

To save the innocent and let his wounds be healed.'

The wall at the end of the corridor moaned and there was a loud crack. The corridor began to vibrate.

Milton looked up at the surrounding walls as they shook. TJ and Sebastian glanced at each other alarmed.

The spell turned to ash in Paige's hand. The walls in front of her parted and a door was revealed. She dashed towards it.

Milton closed his eyes dreading what might come through the door.

Paige clasped the door handle and - stopped. Her hand was touching a smooth wall again. She looked at Leo, shocked.

'The cloaking magic is too strong. We need the power of three.' He said.

'What? Us?' Paige was taken aback. The power of three seemed like something that had died with the birth of their children. She wondered what was on the other side of that door that could revive it.Without another word, she orbed out of the school.

Tyler looked at an empty space where Milton and Sebastian had just been. He looked around the room; books and tables were knocked over, Drops of Milton's blood splattered the floor. He read from a piece of paper in his hand.

'Open the doors that are not seen,

allow me to leave this place in which I've been.

Through space, in no time, let me travel

That my secrets may not be unravelled.'

Tyler stared at the spell and it burst into flames. As it did, he dissappeared from magic school.

In the same second, the door to the room exploded and Piper, Phoebe and Paige walked through, followed moments later by Leo.

'There's no-one here, Paige.' Piper sighed.

'But - ' Paige looked around her struggling for an answer.

'It looks like they haven't been gone long.' Phoebe knelt down on the floor next to a pile of books. She indicated to a spot of wet blood.

'What's in the books?' Piper asked.

Phoebe lent over to look. As she did images flashed through her mind, like they had done when she was young.

Piper snorted, 'Jesus, you look like you just had a vision.'

Phoebe looked at her sister, alarmed, 'no, don't be silly. I don't have visions anymore - not like that. The books are all cloaking spells and illusions. And this last one is a spell to make yourself materialise elsewhere.'

'Well, looks like someone really didn't want to be found. Okay, I'm going home.' Piper looked at Paige, 'will you take me?'

'Sure. I guess there's nothing else we can do for now.' Paige walked toward her sister and they dissappeared in a blaze of blue lights.

Phoebe looked towards Leo, 'what are you going to do now?'

Leo chewed his lip, chosing his words carefully, 'you know whose classroom this is, don't you?'

Phoebe fixed her brother-in-law with a deceiptfully steady gaze, 'it _was_ Tyler's.'

'Phoebe, did you have a vision?'

'What? A flashing of irratic images that doesn't make any sense and takes ages to decipher? C'mon Leo, my powers are better than that now. I don't have to do the whole dramatic closing of the eyes anymore.'

'But you just did. Phoebe? What did you see?'

'Nothing.'

'Phoebe.'

'I don't know what I saw.' Phoebe cried exhasperated, 'But I know this. This is bigger than just innocents. And magic school.' She sighed, 'Just be careful, Leo.' Looking down at the floor, Phoebe paused as if waiting for something. In a burst of pink light, a tall man appeared.

'Are you okay?' He asked.

'Yes,' she lied. 'Can you take me home.'

'Sure.' The man walked towards his wife, smiled at Leo and two more people disappeared from that room.


	9. The Witch Is Back

**The Witch Is Back**

It was three o'clock in the morning but the Halliwell manor was still awake. Piper lay sleeping in a chair whilst Leo stood in the door way watching his son and daughter. It was a rare sight, all the family together. It took Melinda's return to draw her brother back into the nest. This, in turn, brought Leo home from the school. Chris and Melinda discussed business and studies. They discussed politics and philosophy. They discussed anything but family. Then Melinda broke from the conversation about the club's line up.

'Chris, when you were looking for Wyatt, did you ever hear that Sebastian and Tyler were still alive?'

'What?'

'When I was at uni, there was… talk. People didn't like to say anything to me but… Someone claimed to have seen them. But other people thought it was just an urban legend. Did you ever hear anything?'

Chris' eyes softened, 'all the time I was looking in that jungle, I never saw a single body. Demons I wouldn't expect, but witches? Three witches don't just dissappear like that. Dad's right – we can't sense them anymore. And we can't find them by scrying or spells. But we can't summon them either. They haven't turned up as ghosts or whitelighters. We can't find anything to say that they've passed over.' He paused anxiously and then said, ' I don't believe we've heard the last of any of them.'

Melinda wished she could share in her brother's hope. 'Have you told mum and dad this?'

'No and I don't plan to. If I'm right, it'll come to light in its own time.'

'You're still looking for him, aren't you?' Chris looked at his sister, guiltily, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be but he didn't have time to answer her.

There was a bang on the door. Piper woke immediately, 'who's that?'

'I'll go.' Chris was already half way there.

He opened the front door and peered out. There, half in shadow and half illuminated by the porch light was a face he thought he'd never see again.

'Tyler,' breathed Chris.

'Can I come in?' Chris stood back, unable to speak and let his old friend in. Tyler followed him into the living room.

'Tyler!' Piper started. Melinda and her father wore the same shocked expression.

'I'm sorry to call so late but I… There is something of great importance that I must…' He avoided their eyes, he avoided looking at them at all or looking at anything familiar in the room. Instead he looked at his shoes. 'For some time now Sebastian and I have been living as – Sebastian and I did not die in the jungle. In truth, we were never there. You see, we found a… It does not matter. A week ago, we were attacked by demons on a train and an unusual thing happened. A witch, a man, not quite thirty attacked the demon with an axe. At least, I think he is a witch although he has done little yet to prove it. He's an amnesiac. He doesn't remember, you see, being a witch. He is outside. I wanted to bring him here for protection but he is reluctant to… he is afraid.' Tyler avoided the crucial point. He could not bring himself to tell them that Wyatt was outside in the darkness.

'What're you talking about? You weren't at the fight? We thought you were dead? Where have you been? Where's Seb?' Chris was torn between anger and joy.

'Outside. He is outside.' Tyler managed a hoarse whisper.

'Well, let's bring him in. Let's bring them both in,' Leo ventured.

'No!' Tyler raised his voice for the first time.

'Tyler, what is going on?' Piper spoke in a way that forced Tyler to look her straight in the eye. He cracked.

'It's Wyatt, you see. Wyatt is outside.' Tears rolled from Tyler's eyes as he looked deep into Piper's.

'What?' Chris was the first to speak. 'Wyatt!' He ran to the door and outside calling his brother's name.

Piper didn't believe Tyler and looked painfully into his eyes, trying to figure out the confusion and fear.

'I thought he had to die. I thought that's what the prophecy meant – that he had to sacrifice himself. And so we left him. But now he's here. He's here and he doesn't know anyone.' Tyler spoke through sobs, the first tears in a very long year.

The family looked up as Chris came through the doorway, pale as a ghost and then they felt that they really were seeing a ghost as a blonde man edged in behind him.

'Wyatt.' Leo spoke it. His voice was warm, filled with relief but his eyes betrayed the struggle to recognise Wyatt. Sad eyes, thinning hair and pale skin made the man in the doorway seem like a stranger.

Tyler spoke for the last time that evening, 'You are Wyatt now. You mustn't try to be Milton. It won't work. He's not real. This is your home. These people are your family. They'll teach you everything you need to know.' With that he turned to Piper, whispered, 'sorry' and left.

* * *

The Halliwell sisters sat in the attic, Paige leafing through the book of shadows.

'So, is that all he said? What prophecy? What did he _mean_?' Phoebe paced up and down behind Paige.

'I don't know, Phoebe. He didn't make much sense. But my son is back. He's back.' Piper's voice quivered and her last words disappeared into a squeak. She smiled, allowing tears to fall.

'But he can't remember anything. So that's what we need to focus on.'

'Yeah, poor guy,' Phoebe said. 'He's probably freaking out.'

* * *

In the hours since Wyatt's return, Melinda had not said a word. 'He's back.' She whispered to herself. 'It's okay. He's alive. He's back.' The more she said it, the less she believed it. She'd watched Milton all night before he went to bed and not recognised a thing. His voice sounded too Eastern. He didn't smile. Tyler was different. Tyler seemed like he had never gone away. His hair was grey and he was beaten but it was the same gentleness, the same softness that she had always loved. But now he'd dissappeared back into the night, without a second glance, and she didn't know if she would ever see him again.

* * *

In a room directly beneath the attic, Milton sat upright on his bed. He had been sat there for hours. He had not slept but daren't go downstairs.

* * *

'Has anyone called Sophie?' Phoebe asked.

'No. Chris is going to go and see her.'

'Well don't you think he should go? She was Wyatt's fiancé.'

'Phoebe, he hasn't even come downstairs yet. Don't you think he's got enough to deal with? With brothers, sisters, parents? Demons and aunts?'

Milton emerged sheepishly in the attic doorway.

'Good morning.' It sounded stupid – such an average greeting in such strange circumstances. It was all he could manage.

'Hi.' When he was there, Piper could do nothing but look at him. Milton noticed it and it made him uncomfortable. Piper realised this so she tried only to look when he was distracted. 'Paige is looking for a memory spell. Maybe we can help you remember something.'

'TJ already tried. It didn't work.' Milton looked at the strange faces. His mother and her two sisters. He felt sick. 'But maybe I can help you anyway.'

'Sure.' Paige was surprised by this and unsure how he could help. 'This is the Book of Shadows. It's been in our – are you okay?' The blood had drained from Milton's face. He looked at the book aghast.

'Wyatt?'

'That sign – what is it?'

'It represents the power of three – the three of us. Halliwell magic works best when we're united as a family.' Phoebe looked into her nephew's eyes and tried to channel her powers into his mind. 'Have you seen it before?'

'It was scarred on the ground where… Where I was found.'

Paige paused, 'You must have called upon the family magic, in the fight - called on Charmed magic. We weren't there, but our magic was.'

Milton turned cold. He remembered the jungle, he remembered the sun and the desolate landscapes. He remembered being alone. 'Why weren't you there?'


	10. The Honeymoon's Over

**The Honeymoon's Over**

_Leo felt it first. Like a warmth evaporating from his insides. Shortly after, on the other side of the world, Melinda and Chris felt it. They didn't say anything. Chris swept an athamae through the heart of an oncoming demon. Melinda threw a potion over another but they both knew; Wyatt was dead. _

_Piper felt it too. She wasn't expected to but she did. And as she did, every demon within a two mile radius exploded. And, when there were no demons, Piper turned on the glass. Thousands of window panes, glass bottles and vases shattered one after the other, sending a high-pitched crack echoing round the heavens; a mother's grief._

_It was not long after the war was won that the battles ended. Demons, realising their vulnerability shimmered out. Eight figures remained amongst the ruins, some bleeding, some barely breathing, others looking around, devastated. Moments after the last demon left, white lighters began to arrive. Not only those who had charges there but dozens of them from across the world. Some bent over the wounded to heal them, others whispered words of comfort. Some meditated, trying to soothe their champions. Some came just to see. Never had there been such a sight. Never had such a battle been fought, been won, been lost._

_Chris was the only one to receive no healing that day - him and the three missing. He orbed away as the first lights emerged. He orbed into the jungle, flitting from place to place looking for the lost, looking for the warmth that has disappeared from his heart.

* * *

_

Phoebe sat in the attic with Milton. He flipped sceptically through the book. It was not just demons and spells. It was warlocks and mermaids, leprechauns and ogres. Phoebe remembered the first time she'd seen the book. She'd stayed up all night reading it but Phoebe always was a believer. Milton's face looked more like Prue's had done; disbelieving, afraid. Then Phoebe caught a glimpse of something else in his face, something equally familiar.

'You miss your home.'

'What?' Milton looked up alarmed.

'Don't you? You want to go back. To New Jersey, to your….' She hesitated and then it hit her in a flash, 'to your wife. Oh my God, they gave you a wife.'

'Who did?'

'The demons, the underworld.' Milton stared at Phoebe angrily, wishing he was allowed to defend Jennifer.

'You still love her.'

'No,' Milton's voice was confident. 'Not love. Not like you people feel it. But she knows me. I know her. She's who I am.'

* * *

_Hers was the first face Milton saw. He woke up and there she was, leaning over him. Her blonde hair brushed against his cheeks, her green eyes comforted him._

'_Milton, are you okay? Thank god.' _

_Milton tried to cover his body with his hands. She put a crisp white sheet over him and lifted some water to his mouth._

'_It's okay. I'm here now,' she whispered, 'and I'm going to take you home.'

* * *

_

Milton's memories flashed into Phoebe's mind. She saw Jennifer finding him in the jungle. She felt his relief, his gratefulness. Phoebe gasped.

'What?'

'Oh my god.' Phoebe looked at him uneasily.

'What is it?'

'That woman, who found you, she's… Here,' Phoebe stood up and opened the book to a particular page, 'Guinevere. She's a particularly powerful seductress demon. She appears to everyone as the person they most desire.'

Milton looked at the book and smiled, 'Jenny doesn't look like that.'

'No,' Phoebe sighed, 'she looks like this.' Phoebe held up a photograph. It was Wyatt hugging a woman who, if he didn't know better, he would have said was his wife.

'That's Sophie,' Phoebe explained, 'she was your fiancé before...before you disappeared.'


	11. Love's A Witch

**Love's A Witch**

Looking at the woman sitting opposite him, Milton understood for the first time what the others were feeling; seeing a face that you know on a mind that you don't. Sophie hadn't wanted to come. She was trying to move on but Chris was convinced it would help.

'You'll jog his memory,' he had urged. 'C'mon, Guinevere took your form. It must mean something.'

'Yes,' Sophie had replied, 'that they didn't know what the situation was until they found him and then it was too late to change.'

'Sophie. Give him a chance.'

Of course, the only memories Sophie did jog were ones of Guinevere. She felt it and looking at Milton, she wasn't sure that he held many memories for her. He was scrawny and pale. His back was hunched and he didn't smile. She was relieved to find that he was not the man she had loved.

The family sat around awkwardly. It felt like they were waiting for someone.

'I'm sorry,' Milton said, 'I don't remember.'

* * *

Paige and Phoebe had met for breakfast earlier that day.

'Y'know I hate to say it but…' Phoebe wouldn't dare say this to anybody but Paige. Not Leo or Chris. Definitely not Piper. 'D'you ever think maybe… Well, I just wonder what makes a person _that_ person, y'know. What do I have to lose to stop being me? I mean, it's not physical, is it? Y'know, we've all been possessed at sometime or other and just because they had our bodies, didn't make them us. I just wonder if Wyatt can ever really be Wyatt again. If it isn't somebody else, a new person that was born somewhere in the jungle. That was raised by demons.' Phoebe stopped and breathed. She felt relieved to have said it.

Paige stared, long and hard, as all good stares are. After a while, she spoke, 'Wyatt never moved on. His soul remains in that body. We just have to keep looking for it.'

* * *

'That's okay, Wyatt. You don't have to remember.' Phoebe thought about her conversation with Paige. Phoebe wouldn't have minded if Wyatt never remembered a single birthday party or demon attack. She desperately hoped that somewhere in between the memory spells and the reunions he might start to remember what it was like to have family, what it was like to be a Halliwell.

Milton stared at the floor. He was bored of trying to remember things. The problem with not having memories is that you don't cherish them.

'TJ had started to teach me about demons.' He looked around the room challengingly. 'I fought one, on a train – that's how we met. I want to know more about that. I think I should know more.'

'Fine. I'll train you.' Chris was not the obvious candidate for teacher but he spoke up first.

'Maybe you should use magic school.' Leo offered.

'No, we'll do it at the club.'

'Well, I'll help you if you like.' Leo felt he should be the one to train his son.

'No. We'll do it alone.' Chris stared at Milton. 'Just you and me, brother.'

* * *

'Fireball. React!' It was an illusion. Milton managed nothing. The fireball flickered away. Chris sighed exasperated.

'I thought you fought a demon on the train.'

'Yeah, with an axe, not a spell.'

Chris raised an eyebrow, 'I wasn't expecting a spell. Just… I thought you might have frozen it or something.'

Milton felt a stab of inadequacy. 'Can't you just tell me how to do it.'

'No. It's down to you. Everybody's magic works differently. Paige and I, for example, have pretty much the same power but she uses words and kind of orbs things along. I use my hands and sweep them.'

'You move things? What about the illusions? Isn't that your power too?'

'That's a spell. Any witch can write or read a spell, make a potion. Their only limit is their power. I'm talking about active powers. Their the first things to come and they develop with you. They're personal to you and automatic – you don't have to learn them. You just have to control them.'

'Cool. You move things. So does Paige. What about everybody else?'

'Phoebe has premonitions and empathy. It's all about seeing and understanding. She's become very powerful. At the beginning it was mostly flashes, obscure and difficult to understand but now… she could pretty much see anything.'

'So how come she couldn't see me?'

'She would say it was down to your identity crisis. Not that she couldn't see you but that you weren't recognisable. Even then though, I think that Phoebe's powers could overcome those limits but she fights them.'

'Why?'

'Can you imagine what it would be like to only ever see the bigger picture? To experience the world's history all at once? Think how it is for Superman, when he hovers above the earth, hearing everything. Take that and times it by the infinite reaches of time and you will have a glimpse of what it is that Phoebe is fighting.'

'But I thought you guys were all about the greater good. Shouldn't Phoebe just suck it up and stick it out? There's got to be sacrifice if there's a war to be won.' Chris's voice shook with anger, 'you have no idea what you're talking about. Nobody understands sacrifice for the greater good better than this family. Christ, you gave your life for it.'

Milton double took. The jungle hadn't been spoken about. Now that it came up, he was no longer sure he wanted it to be. 'Memories you mean. I'm still alive.' He clenched his jaw, 'now what about my powers?'

'Freezing, telekinesis – you move things with your mind – illusions, energy bolts, orbing, force fields, healing, exploding, astral projection… You name it, you had it. Everything apart from seeing. You were the greatest witch that ever lived. The twice blessed child.' Milton couldn't be sure if Chris's tone was accusatory or regretful.


	12. Death Becomes Them

**Death Becomes Them**

_Whilst angels serve and demons fight_

_Humans chose between wrong and right._

_A spell was cast, a choice was made,_

_To render sin a friend of Hades._

_For each bad choice, for each transgression;_

_The underworld grew from man's omission._

_But in the end, neither the triad nor the source_

_Could control the might of man and right's divorce._

_In one champion, hope remains;_

_Self-sacrifice for the world to gain._

Tyler had heard the words from a seer. He had not copied them to the Book of Shadows. He had not taken them to Magic School or to the Elders. He had hidden them, reading them over and over to himself trying to discern the meaning. Now, two years later, Tyler found himself studying them for the first time since the battle. He thought he'd understood them that day, in the underworld. He thought that Wyatt must chose to sacrifice his life to save good. That his choice would outweigh the dark magic that called upon the evil of mankind. Wyatt had not understood the theory when Tyler told him.

'Surely demons are infinitely more evil than humans. Why is human evil so powerful to them?'

'Demons are born evil, they don't choose it. It's in their blood – they don't know anything else,' Tyler had explained. 'But humans we feel the wrong and we chose to do it anyway. That's the most potent evil there is. The Underworld has called upon it to create the most powerful weapon we have ever seen.'

'What do you mean? Like the Hollow?'

'No, The Dark Son. The Dark Son is the weapon, meant to serve the Underworld but he's ended up ruling it.' Tyler repeated the words of the prophecy, _'neither the triad npr the source could control the might of man and right's divorce.'_

'And me dying; that's the only way to stop it?'

'You're the most powerful witch we have ever seen... _In one champion, hope remains, self-sacrifice for the world to gain._'

'Are you sure, Tyler?' Tyler paused. He couldn't bare the responsibility. They say 'don't shoot the messenger' but Tyler's message was the bullet. Then he pulled his head up and looked his bestfriend in the eyes.

'Yes.'

* * *

Chris and Paige sat on the sofa.

'What're you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be at home with Henry?'

'He's my husband not my keeper. Jees, Chris, anybody would think you were trying to get rid of me.'

'No. I just wish everyone wasn't so bothered about Wyatt.'

'You wish what? Are you sure you're the same Chris? The one that's been looking for him in the jungle for twelve months thinking the rest of us didn't realise where the grass stains came from? I mean, what are you talking about?'

'I wanted Wyatt back. I wanted to know what happened. But he doesn't have either of those things. He's not Wyatt, he's Milton Diggory as raised by the demon, Guinevere. He's apathetic and angry. He just wants to fight and have power. He's not the man that dissappeared in the jungle. I bet if this guy had to make the choice, he wouldn't even go into the jungle.'

Paige pursed her lips thoughtfully. She'd had similar thoughts herself. 'We can't know that Chris and we don't know what happenned in the jungle. We don't know why Wyatt was there or what he was doing. Don't be angry with him because you think he abandoned us.'

There was a scream from upstairs. Paige and Chris jumped up.

'Oh god! No!' Phoebe's voice cried out from the attic. Demon attacks were common in the Halliwell mansion. Frightened screaming was not.

Phoebe had walked into the attic to find her eldest daughter dead on the floor, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. She hunched over, cradling the dead body in her arms, 'Leo! Leo! Oh god, somebody help me.'

Paige appeared in the doorway. She saw her sister, desperately cradling the air. She saw Wyatt staring horrified into the corner of the room, 'no. No. Not them. Not my family.' Wyatt moaned, stroking his hair in anxiety.

Chris came up behind Paige on the stairs, 'Oh, Jesus. Look at all the spiders. How did all the spiders get in here?'

Paige looked into the centre of the room. A man with grey hair and a walking cane stood smiling, 'oh, look! It's the supply witch. Only good for when the world supply of Charmed Ones is running short.'

'You'll have to do a bit better than that, Barbas. We've moved on since then.'

'Yes, you're right. But the thing is, dear, it's this you're afraid of; your family in ruins; the chaos. I don't need to make you believe anything. They're terrified and there's nothing you can do about it.'

Paige's confidence wavered. She tried to fake it, 'I don't know. What can fear really do? I mean, didn't we vanquish you already?'

'Don't be silly.' Barbas began to walk towards Paige, whispering his words tauntingly, 'fear's never exorcised for long. You should know by now, it always comes creeping back.'

In the corner, Wyatt was turning an ever paler shade of white. 'I'll do anything. I'll do anything. You musn't kill them. I'll go back to the jungle. NO! DON'T KILL THEM!' Barbas' face twisted into an uncomfortable shape. 'NO!' Wyatt yelled. Barbas's body began to shake and he looked down at himself. 'NO!' Barbas exploded. The illusions disappeared. The four Halliwells looked around at each other, speechless.

Phoebe picked herself up, tears still falling from her eyes. She felt a hollow familiarity; nothing left to be afraid of but too bewildered to feel relief.

'It's alright. He's gone.' Paige said, 'Wyatt vanquished him.'

Phoebe looked at Milton, surprised.

'What?' Chris looked even more shocked than Phoebe, 'How did you do that?'

'I don't know.' Milton looked at his hands. 'It was instinctive, automatic. Isn't that what you said?'

'Your powers are attached to your emotions,' Phoebe added, 'normally fear paralyses them – that's why Barbas is so powerful. But with you… You must have needed to face your fears. Well done. You did good.'

Milton smiled. It wasn't the power rush he expected. It wasn't thrilling. It was comfortable, it felt necessary and right and it made him feel complete. For the first time, he wanted to be amongst the Halliwells, to hear their stories. He wanted to talk to his mother.

* * *

_'Where are you going?' Sebastian was stood in Tyler's classroom at magic school._

_'Nowhere.'_

_'Don't lie to me. What's going on? Why is Wyatt not at the manor?'_

_Tyler looked at his best friend remoarsefully, 'it's no good. The fight won't do any good. Chris and Melinda, the sisters, they're all putting themselves at risk and for nothing. Wyatt is not at the manor because there is nothing he can do there.'_

_'What are you talking about? His family need him. They need us.'_

_'No. There is only one way to defeat The Son and that is... sacrifice.' Tyler picked up his bag and walked to the door. 'I'm not coming back. I can't, not after what I've done.'_

_'What have you done?' One of the things that Tyler respected about Sebastian was that he was fearless but now Sebastian's eyes filled with panic. ' What have you done?'_

_'Here,' Tyler pulled out a school journal and took a piece of paper out of it. He handed it to Sebastian. 'The Halliwells' fight will make no difference. Only Wyatt can stop the son. His power is too strong for the rest of us.'_

_'We must still help the Halliwells.'_

_'Why?' Tyler cried, 'to die? To watch them die? There is nothing we can do! We can only hope that Wyatt meets the son before his family do_


	13. Charmed Again

**Charmed Again**

Milton sat in his room, rifling through a pile of his old things. He pulled out a baby book and opened it. A photo caught his eye, a mother and daughter shot, the writing beneath read, _'mommy and grandma.'_

'You knew who your family were before you were even born.' Melinda stood in the doorway. 'I heard about Barbas.'

Milton looked down, self-consciously. He felt anxious, like he'd just taken part in some initiation without realising it.

'I didn't mean to kill him.' He said.

'Well, it's a good thing you did. We could have all been in big trouble otherwise.'

'What was I like? As a brother?' Milton shocked himself with the question. Such thoughts had plagued his mind since he first met the tramps but he hadn't dared ask them. Melinda smiled regretfully.

'Y'know mum used to tell these stories about when she was pregnant with you. She was afraid that demon fighting would put you in danger but in the end, you turned her into super witch. She got hurt and you would heal her. She was in danger and your powers would shield her. And you never stopped. When we were kids, just babies, Chris and I would be sent to your bedroom to keep us safe. I mean, you'd saved our lives more times by the time you were ten than I ever have. You were the ultimate big brother and then... one day, you were just gone.'

Milton frowned, '_why?'_

'I don't know.' Melinda looked into the distance, 'you know, mum named both you and Chris after Dad and his family. I sometimes think it was her way of trying to protect you from the Charmed legacy. Being a witch, it can be great but it can also be such a huge burden. And, yes, you were the best brother that I could have ever asked for but all the stuff you had to go through, ever since you were born. I sometimes wish you could have let us down, you could have, just once or twice, done the wrong thing. When that day came and you weren't there... When you just fell off the radar... I wasn't really... I couldn't be suprised.'

Milton looked at his sister, 'well, I'm back now.' She looked back at him; his words were the sort of lie Wyatt would tell. She pulled at a loose string on his shirt, 'I guess you are.'

* * *

_Wyatt Halliwell stood amongst the darkness of the trees. He had orbed into the middle of the jungle, far away, where no-one would look for him. He picked up a stone and started to draw the triquetra onto the ground. The sky cackled and lightning flashed through the clouds but no rain fell. Wyatt stood up, 'CORBEN!' He yelled to the heavens. 'Corben, I am waiting for you!'_

_A dark figure appeared behind him. 'Corben!'_

_'I am right behind you,' the figure breathed. Wyatt turned around alarmed. _

_'Are you ready?' Wyatt asked._

_'Are you?' The figure smiled. He pulled out a sword that flashed like the lightning. A second sword appeared in Wyatt's hands._

_'Excalibur.' The man eyed Wyatt's weapon jealously. He plunged his sword towards Wyatt. The metals met in an almighty crash. 'You may have the stronger sword,' Corben said, 'but I have the stronger shield. I have the world's evil. What do you have?' The rain began to fall. _

_'Piper, Phoebe, Paige,' Wyatt began to chant as he swung his sword towards the dark attacker. 'Prudence, Patricia, Penelope, Melinda, Astrid, Helena, Laura and Grace,' He gasped under the weight of the other man's blows._

_His opponent smirked, 'how sweet. Calling on mommy for help.'_

_'Halliwell witches stand strong beside me, vanquish this evil from time and space.' Wyatt cried out, gashing the man's chest. The chest fizzed and knitted itself back together again. _

_'It'll take a little more than that.' The man laughed._

_Wyatt leapt backwards out of the way of a deadly blow. He looked at the ground, where he had drawn the symbol. It was starting to glow - courage, he thought to himself, courage._

_'I call upon the ancient power,' Wyatt belowed out into the night. 'Come help me in this evil hour!' The ground exploded into flames where he had drawn his symbol. The attacker's face dropped for the first time. He glanced around confused. Then dashed towards Wyatt, forcing him against a tree._

_'Where are they?' He asked. Wyatt smiled knowingly. _

_'Nevermind,' Corben continued. 'It makes no difference to me whether your family dies fighting my army or here, along with you.' Rage rushed up from Wyatt's stomach and he struggled free. He drove Excalibur into Corben's chest. Corben choked for a moment and pulled the sword out from him._

_In the moment's confusion, Wyatt spoke the words that had been hovering over the entire fight,_

_'Whilst angels serve and demons fight, _

_humans chose between wrong and right_

_Take my choice, my gift of life, _

_Vanquish evil with my sacrifice.'_

_Corben, recovering from the blow, looked towards the good defender, 'I really didn't think you'd do it.' He said. Wyatt looked into evil's eyes as he felt the blood in his veins run cold. A similar expression crossed Corben's face, 'it looks like you have killed us both.' He paused, 'are they here, your family?'_

_Wyatt fell to his knees. 'They didn't have to be. The power of three will set me free.' He gasped and fell. As he did, a swarm of black shadow flew out from Corben's mouth and swarmed around the dark son. Within a couple of seconds, he had been devoured.

* * *

_

Milton walked downstairs nervously. Wanting to be part of the family was no harder than wanting to be away from them. He entered the dining room. Leo was sat, anxiously. A place for Piper was laid next to him. At the end of the table, Chris sat scowling.

'Hi,' Milton hovered in the doorway. 'Does it matter where I sit.'

'Here,' Leo gestured, 'I think Piper would like you to sit opposite her.'

Milton went and perched awkwardly on the edge of a seat.

'So it looks like Chris's training paid off.' Leo smiled. Milton nodded obligingly.

'It had nothing to do with my training.' Chris said. 'He couldn't even summon up enough strength for a shield the other day.' It sounded like an attack.

Leo looked at his younger son, embarrassed for them all, 'Chris.' Chris rolled his eyeballs and stalked off to the kitchen. Moments later he was shooed back in by his mother, 'where's Melinda?' She asked.

'Magic school.' Chris mumbled.

'What's she doing there?' Leo asked, bemused.

Milton knew - instantly he knew. He looked at Chris, wondering what he would say.

'Looking for Tyler,' Chris snarled.

'Oh.' The dissappointment sounded in Leo's voice.

Chris looked at Milton, challengingly, 'I presume it was you that was at magic school.'

Milton looked down at the table, 'yes, TJ thought-'

'Wiping students' memories. Cloaking rooms as if you were demons. Doesn't sound like good magic to me,' Chris sniped.

Milton was horrified, he didn't know what to say. Piper looked at Chris sternly.

'You know what, forget it.' Chris got up to leave the table and then looked back towards Milton, 'I just want to know one thing. When Barbas attacked you, which family were you so worried about? Who did you summon all that magic for? Was it us? Or was it Guinevere?'

'Chris, that's enough.' Leo said.

'What? Don't you want to know?' Chris asked his dad, bitterly. Leo dropped his eyes and glanced towards Milton.

Feeling the pressure, Milton looked towards Chris, 'whatever I saw makes very little difference, seeing as Guinevere assumes the forms of those you love.'

'That's not an answer.' Chris spat.

'It's enough of one for me.' Piper looked at her son and he was quiet.


	14. Bite Me

**Bite Me**

Paige sighed at her younger, and secretly favourite, nephew,

'_For a moment, let me take a spider's form,_

_But when I wish it, return me to the norm.'_ She instantly shrunk into the shape of a spider and began to scuttle towards Chris. His face turned a pale shade of green.

'Urgh! Jesus, Paige, turn back now! Paige! I'm telling you, I will squash you.' Paige reappeared giggling.

'What was that for?' Chris demanded indignantly.

'Well, for fun, for one.' Paige smiled, 'And, to teach you a lesson.'

Chris narrowed his eyes sarcastically at his aunt, 'I pity your sons.'

Paige smiled, 'and I pity your parents but that is by the by. The point, my dearest, darling nephew is that you are afraid of spiders and why?'

Chris huffed, 'because an evil spidery demon thing kidnapped my mother and poisoned me.'

'But you only know that because you've been told. You don't remember it.'

'Right.'

'That doesn't mean your fear's not valid.' Paige's voice turned serious, 'who else could that have been in the attic but Wyatt? Who else is so protective of their family? Well, maybe Piper... Chris you can't remember that episode but it's still shaped who you are. It's still a part of you. Wyatt's past might have been forgotten but it hasn't been erased. Barbas proved that.'

Chris looked down, guiltily.

'So no more tormenting your brother, okay?' Paige smiled.

'Fine.' Chris said. 'But just so you know, I'll be taking it out on your sons. And another thing, you shouldn't cast spells like that - they're too likely to backfire. Next time, no need to actually take the form of a spider, you can just show me a picture of one or something.'

'Agreed.' Paige winked at her nephew.

* * *

Melinda sat in the middle of Tyler's classroom. She had found his school diary and was flicking through it. Timetables, lesson plans, registers. Tears trickled down her cheeks, 'where did you go?' She whispered. She flicked onto the next page, a piece of paper fell to the floor. She picked it up and read it and as she did the past year seemed to fall into place.

* * *

'Hey, you want me to show you something?' Piper asked Milton, stirring a pot of soup.

'Sure.' He stood up obligingly and walked over to the kitchen table.

'You see that list there?' Piper nodded to a piece of paper above the kitchen sink. 'It's a list of ingredients. And you see that cupboard there? It's a cupboard of ingredients. And you see this soup here?' She grinned. 'It's a potion.'

Milton's eyes widened. Then he laughed, 'do you have a black hat and a broomstick too?' Piper smiled.

'So, er, I wanted to ask you something.' Milton started cautiously.

'Sure, anything.' Piper looked Milton in the eyes, promisingly.

'I wanted to ask you to tell me some stuff, y'know about me, my life. Maybe my childhood.'

'Well, sure, what do you want to know?'

'I don't know... Was I a good baby or did I scream all the time? Did I strop as a teenager? Was I jealous of Chris and Melinda?'

'Nuh, uh. Never jealous. You used to just go up to them and put your arms around them all the time. And they got so fed up of it, it was like, enough hugs already. Although there was this one time... but then Grams took the rivalry out of you and Chris and put it into me, Paige and Phoebe instead. After that, it never seemed like much of a problem.' She laughed and added some burdoch root to her potion.

Milton scratched his head, 'are things never not magical in this house?'

She sighed, 'it takes some getting used to, huh.'

'A little bit. Anyway, tell me more.'

'Er, okay. You didn't strop much as a teenager but when you did, all hell would break loose. I mean, your the most powerful witch in the world so... God, I don't miss those days. You were mostly a good baby but you had your moments... conjuring a fire-breathing dragon out of the TV, that was a tricky one. And then there was-'

Melinda dashed into the kitchen and slammed a slip of paper onto the table. Piper and Milton looked at her shocked.

'This is it. It's all here.' Melinda looked at her mother and brother meaningfully.

'It's the prophecy that Tyler was talking about.'

Piper ran her eyes over the slip of paper, 'while angels serve and demons fight...'

'What does this mean?' Piper asked.

'It means that Wyatt sacrificed his life to defeat Corben.'

'Who's Corben?' Milton asked.

'Corben is the demonic manifestation of all humanity's sins. He's the ultimate evil.'

Milton was sick of people saying that he'd sacrificed his life while he was still there. Piper seemed to be thinking the same thing, 'but he's not dead,' she said.

'No,' Melinda looked at Wyatt cautiously. 'Something must have changed.'

'Well, maybe you just understood the poem wrong.' Milton offered.

'Or Wyatt did.' Melinda said.

'Where did you get this?' Piper asked.

'In Tyler's old diary.'

'Tyler knew?' Piper whispered.

'I guess that's why he left.' Milton looked from mother to daughter, feeling suddenly out in the cold again. He didn't understand how to write spells or make potions, he didn't understand what the prophecy meant and he didn't understand what was going on in this family.

* * *

CHANGES! Just some notes on changes I've made in previous chapters.

It's all in '_Death Becomes Them'_, i think. I've changed any refs to Tyler in the Amazon - he was never there (I changed my mind about how and when it all went down). I now make a vague ref. to the underworld instead.

Tyler explains the prophecy to Wyatt a little more fully. And, most importantly, the Dark Son is the manifestation of humanity's evil, rather than wielding it as a weapon.

I've also been more economical with my use of Wyatt's name and stuck a reference to the school journal in the conversation between Sebastian and Tyler. These changes don't affect the plot, they just keep a little continuity.

Sorry to confuse anybody. It's just neater this way. I guess I should really be sure i've got it right before I post.


	15. That Old Black Magic

**That Old Black Magic**

Piper knocked on Wyatt's door, 'sweety? Sweety, are you awake?' There was no response so she edged the door open. She looked round, not wishing to disturb Wyatt. The bed was empty. Pushing the door wide open, she looked around confused, 'Wyatt?' The room was empty. Piper began to panic. There was no sign of a struggle, no note, just a perfectly made bed and and a sonless room.

* * *

Milton Diggory stood once again on a train platform, he overlooked the Newark line. He could see Tyler and Sebastian sat at the end of the platform. He walked up behind them. Catching sight of him, Sebastian said nothing. Tyler looked into the bottom of a beer can.

'So I met Barbas.' Milton caught Tyler's attention. 'I won.' Tyler staggered upwards as if to move away from Milton. Milton pushed him back down onto the floor. 'Funny thing, first time I managed to control magic. Seems I had to face my fears. Tell me, Tyler, what're your fears?'

Tyler looked down at the ground.

'Maybe I can guess.' Suggested Milton, his voice wavered in anger. 'Losing the love of the Halliwells. Piper. Melinda? Taking responsibility for my dissappearance. Facing the truth?' Sebastian watched quietly. Tyler muttered into his beer can.

'What's the matter with you?' Milton yelled. 'Where's your courage?'

Tyler laughed hollowly, 'it's down the yellow brick road, with your memories.'

'Y'know Melinda's been looking for you.' Tyler didn't respond. 'She found the prophecy.' That caught his attention.

'Yeah. So we all know your dirty little secret.' Tyler dropped his head again. 'The funny this is though - no-one cares. Melinda, she's worrying about where you are and everything you had to go through. Piper's sorry that you didn't tell them. Leo's dissappointed that you didn't tell them but no-one cares that you sent me to my death.'

Tyler looked up and smiled, 'I thought you didn't die.'

Milton pulled Tyler up by the scruff of his neck. 'We're going home.'

* * *

_The Halliwells had been tracking the Dark Son for weeks. The time in which they would have to face him drew near. Each morning, Piper would wake, particularly glad to be alive, particularly afraid that she and those she loved would soon not be. One such morning, she walked down the corridor to Wyatt's room. All her children had moved back home, when they first heard about Corben. They moved home to protect their parents and their parents insisted on it to protect them. Piper pushed the door open gently. She went into the room, 'Wyatt?' There was nobody there. The room was empty, the bed was made and Excalibur was gone. A chill ran down Piper's spine. She left breakfast on his bedside table, as if he were there and closed the door as she left. She walked into Chris's room. Chris lay asleep. Piper sighed gratefully and checked Melinda's room. She too was asleep, coffee mugs and college papers scattered across her floor. Piper smiled, picked up a coffee mug and pecked her youngest daughter on the forehead._

_'Mum?' Melinda asked through bleary eyes._

_'Go back to sleep.' Piper smiled.

* * *

_

'Mum?' Melinda looked down the hallway towards Piper.

'He's gone again.' Piper whispered.

'What?' Melinda strode towards Wyatt's room, in disbelief. She swung the door open noisily. 'Where?'

Piper looked into the distance, 'he never could leave things be. He always has to _do_ something.'

* * *

_Chris woke and looked towards the windows; it was light. Piper had left breakfast on his bedside table. He laughed and vowed never to leave the Halliwell house again. As he picked up a piece of toast, he wondered why the house was so quiet. Munching on the toast as he went, he walked out onto the landing. He could hear Melinda singing in the shower. He walked next door to Wyatt's room. He knocked on it, 'Wyatt? Wyatt! Wake up!' He shoved open the door and looked around. Seeing no-one there, he ran downstairs. There was no reason to panic and yet he felt it, rising through his chest. He burst into the livingroom. His mother and her two sisters stood seriously._

_'Where's Wyatt?' Chris asked urgently._

_'He's gone.' Piper said._

_'Where?'_

_'To fight the Dark Son.' Paige said._

_'What? No! He wouldn't do that.' He looked around, desperately._

_Paige nodded calmly, 'I can sense it, Chris. So can you.'_

_Chris looked within himself, 'he's in the jungle.'_

_Phoebe looked up, hopefully, 'where? Can you sense where?'_

_Chris closed his eyes and concentrated hard, 'No, I can't... I keep losing him. He doesn't want to be found.'_

_'Well, we need to find him, dammit!' Piper cried._

_'No.' Paige said, 'we need to go to the Underworld. Corben's army will be coming. It's time to fight. Wyatt is already doing so.'_

_Chris shook his head, dismayed._

_'What about the elders?' Leo walked into the room. 'This is the perfect time for a coup. Wyatt is fighting Corben. You are all in the Underworld.' _

_'Not all.' Chris understood what was needed. 'The eight of us, the next generation, we'll go to the underworld. You must go up there, to the elders. The Power of Three must protect the future of good magic whilst your children defend its present.'_

_Paige smiled. Wyatt was the hero, the twice blessed child, but Chris was a brother. He would always come through for Wyatt.

* * *

_

Either Sebastian or Tyler could have fought Milton off but neither of them did. They went with him. They didn't struggle when he threw the transportation potion over them all and they didn't struggle when they stood outside the Halliwell manor. The time had come to face the truth.

* * *

_Sebastian stood amongst the trees, hidden in their shadows. A hundred feet away, he saw Wyatt fencing with Corben. He saw the triquetra on the ground, glowing. He wondered why Wyatt had drawn it. It was Wyatt's magic, not the sisters' that was needed to defeat Corben._

_'I have the world's evil. What do you have?' Corben's voice sounded tauntingly through the trees. A grimlock appeared next to Sebastian. He looked at it, pityingly and smacked a small bottle of potion into its face. It exploded into ash. _

_Moments later, two warlocks appeared. He threw two more bottles over them. They were Piper's potions, she'd been preparing for the battle for weeks. He glanced towards the fight, praying helplessly for Wyatt. He knew now that Tyler was right._

_'I CALL UPON THE ANCIENT POWER, HELP ME IN THIS EVIL HOUR!' Wyatt's voice pierced through Sebastian. Sebastian gasped in wonder as the power of three sign burst into flames. It seemed to hold such comfort._

_'The power of three will set you free.' He murmured. 'The power of three will set you free.' He did not know what his words could do but he repeated them helplessly nonetheless and he took strenth from each time he said the phrase._

_He saw Wyatt mutter his final vanquish. Without being touched, excalibur had plunged into Wyatt's body. Wyatt looked towards Corben, never down at his own injury. They shared the same wound. Vanquished and vanquisher died together in the jungle. Sebastian walked towards them. A black cloud appeared around Corben and diminished him. Wyatt's body remained, noble and covered in blood. Sebastian looked down on his body and wept. He picked up Excalibur and wiped the blood off it. _

_'It is done.' He said.

* * *

_

Milton pushed Tyler in through the livingroom door. Melinda looked up, suprised. So did the rest of the family.

'Tyler!' She gasped.

'Thank god, you're back.' Piper breathed, looking at Milton.

Tyler was bruised where Milton had dragged him across the station. 'Heal him, Chris.' Melinda pleaded. Chris obliged, staring at Tyler all the while. Tyler could not meet his gaze, or any of their gazes. Unlike Tyler, Sebastian was able to look each Halliwell in the eye but he said nothing.

'Where have you been?' Melinda asked, hoping for a shred of recognition from Tyler.

Neither man answered.

'Every time I have met these two, they have been on trains. They sleep in the stations, on the platforms. They read the left over newspapers. They drink cheap beer and stink out the train carriages.' Melinda was shocked by Milton's venom.

'They lost alot.' She said.

'No more than anybody else.' He replied.

Tyler looked at Melinda, her sympathy drawing him out, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. But I didn't know how... he was your brother.'

Tears ran down her face, 'and you brought him back to me.' She smiled.

'I wish I had never spoken of the prophecy.'

'If you hadn't,' Sebastian's voice was strong and firm, 'we'd all be dead.'


	16. I've Got You Under My Skin

**I've Got You Under My Skin**

'I will kill you,' Milton cried towards the woman. He chased her through the jungle. He threw a potion towards her. She turned and looked at him just before it hit her, 'you just have to be the hero, don't you?' The bottle clunked against her forehead and fell off. No exploding, no ash, no flames. The woman just dropped to the ground and a trickle of blood fell from her head.

Milton woke in a sweat. He calmed his breathing and flopped back into the bed. Waking made him tired. Leaving the safety of his room each morning was a worry. Every conversation he had with a Halliwell was like a trial. He buried his face in his pillow and thought about New Jersey. He thought about his house and the bowling, about sharing a beer with Harvey and a bed with Jennifer. He thought about his job, so boring, so simple; the satisfaction when the computer finally buzzed to life. He looked at the phone on his bedside table and punched in a number.

'Hello?' It was Jennifer. Milton gasped. He didn't expect her to still be there. He thought she would have gone, the house would be cleared out. He'd imagined demons stalking around the white rooms. But now it was just her, his wife.

He hung up.

* * *

Leo looked at Sebastian inquisitively.

'Tyler was not wrong. Wyatt needed to sacrifice himself to end the Dark Son's reign.' Sebastian said without looking up from The Book Of Shadows.

'What are you looking for?' Leo asked.

'Guinevere.' Leo frowned. 'I am suprised you have not done anything about her yourself.' Sebastian added.

Leo shrugged, 'I think that kind of decision needs to be left up to Wyatt.'

'He doesn't even realise he has a decision to make.' Sebastian looked at the book intently. 'It seems to me, this is a job for the sisters.' His gold teeth flashed.

* * *

_Milton stroked his wife's cheek, 'goddamn, you're beautiful, Mrs Diggory.' She smiled. He stood up from the table and picked up their empty plates, 'you know, I was watching this old TV progamme this morning. 'Bewitched' I think it was called.'_

_Jennifer shifted awkwardly. 'I've never heard of it.'_

_'No, well, it was made in the 1950s. That's not far off a hundred years ago.' He grinned. 'It was so dated. Samantha, she's a witch, and she's married to this absolute jerk. And it's considered entertainment. You're supposed to laugh. I don't ever want to be like that.'_

_'Married to a witch?' Jennifer smiled._

_'No, a jerk. He's just... he's afraid of his own wife, always trying to keep her in check. The guy's a moron.'_

_Jennifer wrapped her arms around Milton, 'well, you're not like that. I know, you love me just the way I am.'_

_He pecked his wife on the cheek and wondered through to the kitchen, 'too right.'

* * *

_

The door to the Diggory household blew open. Piper Halliwell stormed through.

'Piper, what are you doing?' Leo asked, concerned.

'Leo!' Piper was suprised. 'What are you doing here?'

Paige orbed into the house, bringing Phoebe with her. 'Piper, wait for us.' She turned around, 'Henry?'

'Oh.' Piper's voice dropped and she flicked her hands towards her husband. He sparked but didn't explode.

'Oh.' Paige realised what was going on.

Phoebe pulled out a piece of paper, 'here. I have the power of three spell.'

* * *

Milton walked downstairs in the Halliwell Manor. It was quiet. He wondered where everybody was. He looked walked into the livingroom. Chris was sat on his own.

'Where is everybody?'

'Tyler, Dad and Melinda are at magic school.' He said lazily, 'Mum and the sisters have gone to vanquish Guinevere.' Chris had promised not to tell Wyatt but he was testing him. He wanted to know where his loyalties lay but he did not expect what followed. Without a word, Milton dissappeared in a shower of lights.

* * *

Milton appeared in his own livingroom, intent on saving Jennifer. He was so determined, the orb only seemed natural. He looked and saw the sisters crowded round a piece of paper. Opposite them was a snake-like woman, covered in black scales.

'Wyatt?' Piper looked at her son, seeking confirmation on what she was about to do.

Milton collapsed on a chair. He nodded. 'Go ahead. That's not my wife.'


	17. Love Hurts

**Love Hurts**

Milton felt himself falling and woke with a jolt. He looked around himself at an unfamiliar appartment.

'Wyatt?' Milton looked up. It was Jenny. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it.

'What're you doing here?'

Milton looked at her, confused.

'Wyatt?'

'Why do you keep calling me that?' He asked the blonde woman stood over him.'I thought they killed you.' He muttered.

'Who?'

Milton stood up and wrapped his pyjamas round himself. He looked at Jenny without answering, 'where are we?'

For a moment, she looked crestfallen, 'home... my home.'

With a glance at the woman, Milton was shocked back into reality and his mind caught up with his body. 'You're Sophie,' he said.

She smiled regretfully, 'and you're Milton.'

Milton sat in P3 considering the bottom of a glass. A bottle of Jack Daniels sat on the counter. Chris appeared next to him.

'Y'know that still creeps me out.' Milton said, referring to the orbs of light Chris had formed out of. Chris grinned.

'I was trying to get away from you all but I had no idea where to go in this city to get a drink at seven in the morning... anyway, here I am.' Chris looked at the bottle of Jack Daniels and laughed.

'What?' Milton asked.

'Jack Daniels. Still your favourite drinking partner, huh.' Milton scowled.

'You know what I came to get away from?' He asked. Chris kept quiet. 'Wyatt.' Milton said. 'I came to get away from people searching for him. I mean, you own this place, how many people in one night order a Jack Daniels? It must be hundreds and yet you still manage to layer meaning on to the fact that I'm drinking it.' Chris looked taken aback. 'Look, I'm sorry,' Milton continued. 'I would really like to be Wyatt. I would. But do you really find him more in here, with me, than you did searching the Amazon?' Milton paused and picked up his glass. He looked at it. 'You want to know the real reason I was drinking Jack Daniels? It was because it was already out on the counter.'

Chris sat still for a moment, watching his brother. 'Wyatt... I've seen, we've all seen you in so many different... phases. I've seen you as a small child, a teenager and a grown man. I've seen you possessed, gone astray, as the evil villain and the hero willing to give everything for the greater good. And some things change. And some things don't. And you may be lost. And there may be some parts of you that are still out in the jungle or married to Guinevere but you'll come home. I know you will. You always do. Because you're my brother. You can't change that.'

Chris dissappeared just as he had arrived. His words, which at another time might prove so important, washed over Milton. They were lost amongst the worries of the morning after. Milton stared at the darkened bar. His brain tried to sift through the memories of the night before...

...Milton and Sophie sat opposite each other. Milton slugged a mug of coffee. Sophie stared at him curiously.

'I'm sorry. I have no idea how I got here.' Milton said, embarrassed.

'You orbed.' Sophie pushed a plate of biscuits towards him. Milton looked doubtful.

'You must have been dreaming... Don't worry, it's happenned before.' Sophie reassured him. 'The night before you left.'

Milton stared furiously into the coffee, 'that's kind of creepy.'

'For you or for me?' Sophie smiled.

'Both.' Milton pushed his hands through his hair, agitated. He felt like he owed an explanation. 'I keep having nightmares about you... or Jenny. I don't know. God, this is so screwed up.'

'Yeah, demons will do that to you.'

Milton took a biscuit cautiously, 'so, um, are you a... magical... a witch then?' He flushed red.

'If only they'd picked a word that wasn't in childrens' books, huh.' Sophie grinned. 'No, 'fraid not. Not a magical bone in me. But, what can I say? You charmed me.' Sophie smiled.

'Weren't you afraid?' Milton asked, watching her intently, 'didn't you worry about getting dragged into the underworld or something?'

Sophie paused, 'sure I was.' She said. 'I worried about having magical kids, demon attacks, losing my social life, lying to our friends and family. I worried about everything but in the end, being without you was harder.'

Milton laughed bitterly, 'God, fate really screwed you over, didn't it.'

'Everything happens for a reason.' Sophie looked at him confidently. 'You taught me that.'

Milton looked up as he heard a clatter. Piper wondered through the club from the office. She looked at him suprised, 'Wyatt, I didn't know you were here.'

Milton felt like he was a small child who'd just been caught out, 'yeah, sorry. I just... god, I'm sorry.'

'Hey, don't worry about it. We all need a time out.' She smiled. 'How about you pour me a glass of that too.'

'Sure.' Milton said, suprised. 'Listen, I wanted to ask you... when I orbed... to Jenny's place. How did I do that? I mean, why?'

Piper scratched her head, awkwardly. 'Well, y'know, our powers are attached to our emotions. We all have certain things - an emotional state - that will trigger them. You just have to learn to control it.'

'What's your trigger?' Milton used the wrong pronoun.

Piper sighed, 'I don't know. I don't think it's ever been the same twice.' She cocked her head. 'Motherhood, maybe... even before I was a mother, the maternal instinct. Christ, once Leo turned me into a goddess of creation, the ultimate mom... what're you thinking about?' Piper paused, watching him. 'Oh... I know,' she said softly. 'You're wondering what your trigger is.'

Milton looked up embarrassed. He jerked his head as if to deny it and then took to studying the Jack Daniels bottle.

'It's love.' Piper sighed. 'One of the things you inherited from your father.' Milton's heart sank. Piper had just confirmed his worst fears.

'Do I love Guinevere then?'

Milton stroked Sophie's cheek. 'I love you,' he whispered, shocking himself. He felt his heart tugging every time she looked at him. He felt his nerves tingling in his stomach and his palms sweating. He wanted to pull her towards him and never let go. He had all the symptoms of love. Nonetheless, the word still caught him by surprise.

Sophie looked down abashed and pulled herself towards him. She pushed her face into his shoulders. Milton had to concentrate to breathe. He felt his heart racing. Sophie began to unbutton her shirt.

'Are you sure?' Milton asked. Sophie ignored him, wrapping herself around his body.

Milton studied her face. He watched her mouth slacking and her eyelids fluttering. He felt a strange sense of both euphoria and dread.

'Wyatt.' She whispered. Milton hesitated. The name caught him off guard. 'Wyatt - my god, I love you. I love you so much.' Milton wanted to get out of the room. He wanted to be back in New Jersey. He looked towards the ceiling and finished. As he did, Sophie seemed to detach. She rolled away from him, avoiding his eyes. Milton stood up and got dressed. He swallowed, trying to think. He left the apartment through the door.


	18. Enter The Demon

**Enter the Demon**

Piper sat in P3. She poured herself a drink from a bottle of Jack Daniels. Rubbing her eyes with tiredness she finished off her glass and dissappeared into the back of the club.

Moments later, Milton appeared in the club, dark rings hung around his eyes. It was seven o'clock in the morning and neither of them had slept that night.

In fact, no Halliwells slept that night. The family's restlessness kept Phoebe awake. She knew Piper lay in the back office, the whiskey allowing her only some semblance of sleep. She knew that Milton was trying to escape down the last dreggs of his mother's bottle. Melinda sat staring at the prophecy and Chris was still searching for his brother. No longer in the Amazon, now in the Underworld.

* * *

Chris dashed his hand through the seer's pool. Her eyes flashed.

'Frustrating me won't help you.'

'Tell me what you know.' He demanded.

She smiled, 'I know that you compromise yourself so that your family can live in innocence.' She laughed, 'I know that you think you're the only one.'

Chris scowled, 'I don't want your psychobabble, seer, I want answers.' Chris's voice was light, like a child's. If the seer had a heart, it would have broken it.

She stared not into the pool but into Chris's eyes. 'Your father came to my predecessor looking for answers when he should have gone to his family. I could say the same of you.'

Chris rolled his head in frustration but the seer continued, 'you all have the same questions. Where did Tyler get the prophecy from? Is Milton really Wyatt? Is Corben still alive? You might try asking each other.'

The swarm of chaos and doubt in Chris's mind had just crystallised into five painful points. He looked at the seer helplessly, 'won't you tell me anything?'

She smiled, 'next time I will.'

* * *

Phoebe kissed Coop on the forehead, 'honey, are you awake?'

He rolled over dosily, 'you know full well I wasn't.'

'Can you take me to magic school?'

'Magic school?'

'I need to speak to Sebastian.' Coop didn't get dressed, he didn't even sit up, he just groaned and rolled over onto Phoebe. With a flash of pink they were lying on the floor of a classroom. Phoebe sat up frowning.

'Not quite what I had in mind,' she hissed.

'See you later.' Coop dissappeared again. Phoebe stood up and brushed herself down cautiously. She began to walk through the classrooms looking for Sebastian.

Sebastian sat awake. He was in a darkened classroom with only a single candle to read by. The top of the candle was a mess of wax where he had blasted it. He hadn't had a match. The door in the far end of the room creaked open and Sebastian looked towards the light. A small, upright figure stood there. Sebastian didn't speak. Recognising that it was him, Phoebe walked in.

'You know I always wondered,' Phoebe's voice echoed around the long room, 'if when you duplicated Piper's powers, you might have taken mine too.'

Only Sebastian's face was lit by the candle. His golden teeth flashed in its flame. 'I knew you knew.' He rasped. 'I wondered why you had never asked me.'

Phoebe looked at his yellowy eyes. She could not see past them. 'Being an empath is hard enough when you're human, it's unimaginable for a demon.'

Sebastian's glowing head spoke, 'what else could have turned me? You watched Cole struggling. You've seen how hard it is for us to suppress our demonic nature. Do you think I did it on a whim? Only with the weight of all mankind on me, could I ever have found the strength.'

Phoebe brought her face so close to Sebastian's that it too was illuminated by his candle. She looked down and whispered so that her voice was barely audible above Sebastian's breathing. 'Is Corben still alive?'

'Or is Wyatt dead?' Chris added. He had appeared about five feet away. Neither empath was suprised by Chris's arrival but he felt like he had made an entrance.

Sebastian's eyes darted to Chris, 'of all the powers in the world Chris, I wish I could duplicate your insistence. You'll never stop. Where your family are concerned, you are absolutely reckless.'

'I'd die for them.' Chris's words were a challenge lost on Sebastian. He only laughed.

'What?' He raised a bushy eyebrow. 'More often than the rest of them do?' Neither Halliwell smiled. 'Back to your question...' Sebastian continued.'I would imagine Corben is in much the same state as Wyatt; lost and weak but able to awaken.'

Chris dissappeared again. He went to P3. He went to find Wyatt, to find his brother.


	19. Gone With the Witches

**Gone With the Witches**

Goodevening, reader. Allow me, if you will, to interrupt your story momentarily. Allow me to claim this chapter as my own and lead you deeper into the inmost cave.

I am not known for my interfering nature. Indeed it is my lack of it that means that I will outlive all that this world currently knows; any elder or avatar, any demon, certainly any witch. But, with regards the Charmed legacy, everything is elastic. My own temperament included.

I have met the Halliwell sisters many times. I was there at the death of their mother, their grandmother and their sister. I am there in every vanquish and every loss. I was there in the weeks before they battled the ultimate power. I was there the first time when I took Phoebe and Paige. I was there the second time, when I took Christy. And I was there the morning that they lost Wyatt.

My list had changed several times that week. On Monday, it had thirteen names. On Monday, I did what I had only done once before. I warned somebody. Tyler James Morgan saw my face for a moment in the flames of a potion he was cooking. He saw it later that day in a bus window. He saw it once more in the seer's pool. That was all I did; the flicker of a familiar face, the shadow of a doubt. That was enough to send Tyler into the underworld, that was enough to set in motion the events that led Wyatt into the jungle. As Tyler listened to the seer's prophecy, my list shrank. Only two names were left - _Wyatt Halliwell, Corben._

And so I stood next to them in the jungle, less than a week later. And as they fought I waited for my souls. I waited to take them on to the other place; Heaven and Hell respectively. But as I waited, their names dissappeared from my list. Was it when Wyatt drew the triquetra, was it when he called on his ancestors or was it Sebastian Sanchez's feeble spell? I cannot say. But sometime during that ungodly hour in the Amazon, Wyatt Halliwell and the Dark Son were granted life. Their souls, however lost, do not belong to me. They remain on this plain. Their destinies, however, are mine.

A short chapter this has been and I hope you will forgive my intereference. Without it, I fear your story may never have been complete. You shall not hear from me again but I will be there, unseen in every death.Until our final meeting then, when I shall lead you from this world.


	20. PreWitched

**Pre-Witched**

Melinda and Tyler sat in a classroom in magic school. Since Tyler had been back, they had begun to repare their relationship. It was not the same though, it was shy, unsteady. They sat both with their heads in books, neither of them reading. Eventually Melinda stuck her head up.

'I have a question.' She announced, prepping Tyler for a conversation.

Tyler smiled, 'fire away.'

Melinda fiddled with the spine of her book. 'If Wyatt survived, does that mean Corben might have done too?' Tyler didn't answer. Melinda began again, as if making excuses for her question, 'I mean, if Wyatt had to die to kill him and Wyatt didn't die, I just thought, y'know...'

Tyler nodded. 'Ive been wondering ever since that first day on the train.' He closed his book firmly. 'Good's sacrifice is an age old tale. Myths and legends, literature, religion is filled with it and there are various explanations as to why Wyatt might have survived and not Corben. I mean, maybe it is the intention rather than the deed, The choice rather than the death. But the truth, the truth is that I don't know. Corben might still be alive somewhere, weakened just as Wyatt is, but still out there.'

Melinda looked down deflated. She had expected that answer but hoped for a clearer one. 'And Corben,' she continued, 'what could have happenned to him?' Tyler fidgeted. He seemed distracted.

'Melinda, I want you to know that if things could have been any other way, I would have... As long as I knew what the prophecy said... I couldn't come to you.'

Melinda looked at him, sorrowfully, 'but why after? When he was still alive, after you brought him back to us?'

Tyler frowned, 'I still knew about the prophecy, Mel, I still had to worry about Corben.'

Melinda looked away, 'that's another thing I wanted to ask.' Melinda sounded betrayed, 'how did you even know about the prophecy?'

'He knew from me.' A female appeared in magic school.

Melinda jumped up, 'how did you get in here?'

'The same way you did.' The seer smiled.

'Demons aren't supposed to be able to enter magic school.'

'Well, you don't need to be a seer to know that isn't true.'

'What do you want?' Any other demon, Melinda would have vanquished in an instant but years ago her family had forbidden her to touch the seer.

* * *

_Tyler stood looking into the seer's pool. She smiled at him, 'don't worry, Tyler, you are not going to die.'_

_Tyler shifted from foot to foot. 'But I've seen him. I've seen him three times. Once only a moment ago in your pool.'_

_'I know you have. Do you think everybody who sees the angel of death dies?You know they do not. You know that Piper and Leo did not.'_

_'THEN WHY?' Tyler clenched his fists and fought back a sob of exhasperation._

_'This morning,' the seer explained, 'this morning, it was your destiny to die. This evening it is not. Like Piper was, you have been warned.'_

_'Of what?'_

_'Of this.' The seer's chest heaved, her eyes turned into balls of water, deeper than the ocean. She waved her hand and the water in her pool rose up out of the sink and formed itself into words..._

_Whilst angels serve and demons fight_

_Humans chose between wrong and right...

* * *

_

'I am here to see Sebastian.' The seer told Melinda.

'Well he's not here.' As the words left Melinda's mouth, Sebastian walked in through the classroom door. Melinda chewed her lip frustrated.

The seer laughed and pointed to herself, 'I am the seer. I know where people are before they know themselves. Now, before you leave, which you will by the time that log on the fire has finished burning, I am going to answer your questions about the prophecy.'

Melinda looked at the log on the fire and made a mental note to herself not to leave before it had finished burning.

'In the underworld, we have a story. A grimlock overhears the angel of death and a charmed one having a conversation. I have to admit this is one of a multitude of 'charmed one anecdotes, sayings and jokes' that rather dissappointingly fail to be true. Anyhow, the grimlock overhears the angel of death telling the charmed one that the next person on his list is said grimlock. So, believing that this knowledge arms him to avoid his tragic fate, the grimlock packs his bags and leaves the underworld. He goes to Valhalla, somewhere, death will never find him. What he doesn't hear is the end of the conversation. Death turns to the charmed one and says, 'well, I must go as I have to be in Valhalla by tea time.' You see, Melinda, demons and witches do not see how their destinies mount. The grimlock didn't realise that overhearing the conversation was part of his journey towards death. Tyler didn't realise that his coming to me both triggered and fulfilled the prophecy. It did not exist before he came to the underworld and it would not have been true without him there to hear it.'

'But your prophecy hasn't been fulfilled.' Melinda said.

'That's a matter of opinion,' retorted the seer. The log had nearly burnt.

'Why?' Melinda asked. 'Why did he come to see you?'

'Because he saw the angel of death.' The seer smiled.

Tyler looked at Melinda sorrowfully, 'I needed to know. I needed to know if we were all going to die.'

Melinda looked back, just as sad.

'That need to know is precisely what prevented you all from dying.' Melinda looked into the fire, frustrated by the seer's confidence. She caught a glimpse of something; black smoke. Then shapes, what looked like her mother fighting a demon. A man, strangely familiar.

'What was that?' Melinda asked.

The seer raised her eyebrow.

'Did you see that?' Melinda asked. Nobody answered. She looked at the seer, 'did you do that?'

'I don't have the power.' The seer paused. 'You know you cannot ignore it.' Exhasperated, Melinda dissappeared in a flash of light. Moments later, the log finished burning.


End file.
